


































T V 





















































f 

















' f - : 








































THE EXPEDITION PREPARING TO START, 





A SERIES OF NARRATIVES, DIALOGUES, BIOGRAPHIES, AND TALES, 
FOR THE INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT 
OF THE YOUNG. 




B T 





(fmtiilliajreii mitij 

NUMEROUS AND BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 














































' • ' , • • - ' ' 





















































' * . * ' *” iV* r * 


















- - 































HOW TO TRAVEL IN THE 


Lqss;NO-8 l!,,>1 


& BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS 


HARPER 


f 



















} 





IZt, . 

■A 12, 

|r to 


Entered, according to an Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 
hundred and fifty -six, by 


HARPER & BROTHERS, 


in the Clerk’s Office for the Southern District of New York. 


a ?>t 


PREFACE. 


This book is intended to teach you how hunters, emigrants, and 
travelers manage in the long journeys they have to take in the 
wild regions of the Western country of America, where there are 
no roads, no towns, and no civilized people. The parties, large 
and small, that are continually moving to and fro over those vast 
regions, are innumerable, and they are increasing every year ; and 
it is very interesting to us, as we sit by our quiet firesides at home 
on the winter evenings, to read of their adventures, and of the va- 
rious means and contrivances which they resort to in the absence 
of all the usual comforts and conveniences of civilized life. At 
least, Bell, Stanley, and Dorie were much interested in looking 
at the drawings which their father made for them, and in hearing 
his explanations of them ; and I hope the readers of the Story 
Books may be interested too, in perusing the conversations and 
looking at the engravings as they are reproduced here. 


<*> 









. ' 

. 



. 







. 











CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

I. COMMISSIONS 

II. RIVER-CROSSING 

III. THE LESSON OF THE RAFT 

IV. THE ENCAMPMENT 

V. THE BEAR 

VI. SYSTEM 

VII THE MILITARY PICTURES .. 

VIII. THE LAKE PICTURES 

IX. WATER 

X. THE INDIANS 

XI. BIVOUACKING 

XII. HARDSHIPS : . . . 

XIII. SNOW 

XIV. THE TROPICS 

XV. RIVERS r 

XVI, CONCLUSION..-. • • 


PAGE 

13 

18 

28 

42 

53 

62 

70 

87 

91 

100 

no 

120 

130 

139 

149 

158 


1 
















































































... 

... - •' r ; 






■ - 

M ; 






. ■ 

s 


• ’ > . . •: 






.... 












■ ‘ 







































ENGRAVINGS. 


THE EXPEDITION PREPARING TO START 

BUILDING A RAFT 

BARK FOR LASHINGS 

THE ENCAMPMENT 

THE WAGON TRAIN 

THE LOG 

BELL’S COPY 

THE FIELD-PIECE 

MORTARS 

THE CASEMATED BATTERY 

SHORES OF THE LAKE 

STRAITS OF MACKINAW 

VIEW OF THE GREAT DESERT 

ROCKS IN THE DESERT 

THE TENT IN THE DESERT 

THE SURPRISE 

THE CAMP-FIRE 

GREAT BOULDER 

PLEASANT CAMPING-GROUND 

STEEP ROOF 

BIVOUACKING IN THE SNOW 

ENCAMPMENT IN THE SNOW 

EXTREME DISTRESS 

TIRED OUT 

FORDING THE RIVER 

MULES SWIMMING 

BUILDING A BRIDGE 


PAGE 

Frontispiece. 

19 

38 

43 

47 

56 

69 

72 

77 

85 

88 

-90 

* 94 

97 

99 

103 

106 

109 

112 

117 

122 

123 

129 

140 

150 

153 

156 


/ 




























; : '( : . ' 








- * * « . • 




. • • • * » 






• • ~ i - - ■ • * - • • • ■ • * • • •' 

; 




• • •* • 

* * • • ... 









• • • 4 






....... 

... . . . . ' »*,« W >' 


• • ... ■ ' .... 




1 




.... 
















...... g ... i . . . * 




. , • • > • • •• •• 

• > * ♦ • ’ • * • - • * * « • * 















THE ENGINEER. 


CHAPTER I. 

COMMISSIONS. 

Colonel Markham’s study. The surveying instruments. The work-shop. 

rpHE name of the engineer was Colonel Markham. He lived in 
a beautiful house on the banks of the North River. He had 
a study in his house, with a large bow window in it, which look- 
ed out upon the river. He used to spend a great deal of time in 
this study when he was at home, reading books of mathematics 
and engineering, and drawing plans of the work that he had sur- 
veyed when he was away on his expeditions. 

Colonel Markham had a great many curious instruments which 
he used in his surveying. These instruments he kept, when he 
was at home, in a large glass case, like a book-case, in his study. 
When he went away on his surveying expeditions he used to take 
many of them with him. Those that he thus took with him were 
always packed in nice mahogany boxes, made expressly for them. 
Each instrument fitted into its own box exactly. 

Colonel Markham had a small shop in a sort of closet, with a 
large window in it, that opened out of his study. This little shop 
was very elegantly furnished, and the tools in it were very costly 
and very beautiful. There was a lathe in it. The lathe was of 


14 - 


commissions. 


The turning-lathe. Stanley had a shop of his own. Colonel Markham’s business. 

the most complete and highly-finished workmanship, and it was 
mounted on a mahogany bench. There was a lid to shut down 
over it when it was not in use, to keep the dust out. This shop 
and these tools the colonel used for making repairs and adjust- 
ments upon his instruments, and for other nice operations of the 
sort. 

Stanley Markham, the colonel’s son, would have liked very 
much to go into his father’s shop, and to use those beautiful tools 
in making boats, and boxes, and cages for birds and squirrels ; 
but the tools were too valuable to be used by such a boy. Stan- 
ley was only about ten years old. 

But, though Colonel Markham was not willing that Stanley 
should use his nice and costly tools, he provided him with a shop 
and tools of his own. Stanley’s shop was in a corner of the shed. 
It was provided with saws, and planes, and other such tools suit- 
able for a boy, and also with nails, and screws, and boards of va- 
rious thicknesses, and other similar materials. There was also an 
abundant supply of wire, and nippers and pliers to cut and bend 
it with." This wire Stanley used for the purpose of making traps 
and cages for birds and squirrels. 

Colonel Markham remained at home generally during the win- 
ter, or at least during some portion of the winter. In the summer 
he was out on surveying expeditions. Once, when he went to the 
Far West to survey the rail-road route across the prairies there, he 
went in the fall, and remained through the winter and nearly 
through the next summer. 

When the colonel went away on this occasion, he asked the 


COMMISSIONS. 


15 


Colonel Markham leaving home. Stanley’s request. What Dorie wanted. 


children what he should bring them home. He had always been 
accustomed, when he went to New York on any business, to bring 
home to them such little presents of books and toys as they might 
send for, and now, though he was going, not into a great city, but 
far away into the western wilderness, he asked them the usual 
question. 

“Well, children,” said he, “what shall I bring you home this 
time ?” 

“Shoot me a great black bear, father,” said Stanley, “and 
bring me home his skin.” 

The colonel laughed at this request, but made no answer. 

“And what shall I bring you, Dorie, my dear?” 

Dorie was a bright and active little child five years of age. 
Her name in full was Dorinda. 

Dorie looked up a moment into her father’s face, and seemed to 
be thinking. What she wanted was. a picture-book, but she was 
not quite certain whether picture-books could easily be obtained 
or not in the backwoods. 

“ Could you get me a little picture-book, think ?” said she, look- 
ing up timidly at her father. 

“ I am afraid not,” said the colonel. 

“ Then perhaps you could bring home some flowers,” said Do- 
rie. “Flowers grow in the woods.” 

“Yes, but they would all fade before I could get them home,” 
said the colonel. 

“ Then bring me a little bird — a bright little bird,” said Do- 
rie. “Birds don’t fade bringing home, do they, father?” 


16 


COMMISSIONS. 


Some account of Bell. 


Bell would like some pictures. 


“No,” replied the colonel, “they would not fade if they lived, 
but perhaps they might die.” 

“If you give them some crumbs of bread, father, every day, 
they won’t die. I’ll go and get a piece of bread for you to carry.” 

So Dorie ran off to get a piece of bread. 

“ And what shall I bring for you, Bell ?” said the colonel. 

Bell was about twelve years old. She was a very quiet and 
gentle girl. She was in feeble health, and not strong. She ac- 
cordingly did not like active plays, and did not go out much with 
other children, but remained quietly at home with her mother. 
She was very fond of reading, drawing, and other such intellectual 
pleasures. She had a little garden, and was much occupied with 
her flowers, but she was not strong enough to do much in culti- 
vating them. Patrick, the Irishman who lived at Colonel Mark- 
ham’s, took care of her garden for her. 

Bell was sitting on the step of the front door when her father 
asked her what he should bring home for her. The colonel was 
standing near, waiting for the carriage to come round. 

“ If you have time to draw me some pictures of what you see,” 
said Bell, “I should like that very much.” 

“ What kind of pictures ?” asked her father. “ Shall they be 
pictures of the scenery, or of what the people in the woods are 
doing ?” 

“ Of what the people are doing,” said Bell. “ I should like that 
a great deal better than the scenery.” 

“I can put some of the scenery in the background, perhaps,” 
said the colonel ; “ then you can have both.” 


COMMISSIONS. 


17 


The colonel’s departure. His return. The bearskin, the bird, and the pictures. 

“Yes, sir,” said Bell, “I should like that very much indeed.” 

“Well, ” said the colonel, “ I will see what I can do.” 

Just at this moment Patrick was seen approaching with the 
horse and carriage round to the front door, and at the same mo- 
ment Dorie came running in from the kitchen with a piece of 
bread rolled up in a paper. 

“Here, father,” said she, “here’s for the little bird.” 

The colonel took the parcel and put it carefully in his pocket, 
and then bidding them all good-by, he got into his carriage, and 
Patrick drove him away. His instruments were packed in two 
iron-bound chests, which, together with his trunk, were strapped 
on behind. Patrick, however, was not going very far. He was 
only going to take the colonel and his baggage down to the Hud- 
son River Rail-road station. 

It was September when the colonel left home on this expedi- 
tion, and he did not return again until the following June. 

When he came he brought a large black bearskin for Stanley, 
and a pretty little black and yellow bird for Dorie. 

“ And, Bell,” said he, “ I made some drawings for you, and I 
have got them in a portfolio in my trunk. I am going to show 
them to you by-and-by, and explain them to you. Or would you 
rather have them all now, without waiting for the explanations ?” 

“I would rather wait,” said Bell, “and have them explained.” 

“And you must let me be there too,” said Stanley, “to hear 
the explanations/’ 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “I will.” 

“And me too,” said Dorie. 

1!> B 


18 


RIVER-CROSSING, 


Explaining the pictures. 


Woodsmen building a raft. 


CHAPTER II. 

RIVER-CROSSING. 

The first picture which Colonel Markham showed to the chil- 
dren was a picture of men building a raft to cross a river. 

In the foreground of the picture there were seen five men em- 
ployed in building a raft. They had laid down one tier of logs in 
the water, and were now placing another tier crosswise over them. 
The logs were chiefly in the water, but one end of the raft rested 
on the shore, to prevent its floating away while they were build- 
ing it. Two of the men were at work on the outer corner of the 
raft, lashing the logs together. One of them was standing in the 
water. The other was kneeling down upon the raft. 

At the other corner of the raft two men were employed in bring- 
ing a new log to put across. 

The fifth man was on the shore. He w T as employed in rolling 
another log along, so as to have it ready. A gun was lying down 
upon the ground by the side of him. 

The scenery around was very pretty. The river was near, with 
beautiful copses of trees upon the banks of it. In the distance 
was a high, conical-shaped mountain. The summit of the mount- 
ain rose above the clouds. 

The men had obtained the logs by felling trees in the woods 
that grew along the bank of a river. A part of the company 
were still in the woods felling more trees. 


RIVER-CROSSING 


19 


Raft-building on a Western river. 



BUILDING A RAFT. 


Here you see the picture, with the river, the men at work upon 
the raft, the woods on the shores, and the distant mountain. 

The place where the rest of the company are at work getting 
more logs is on the left. They are far in the woods, and are en- 
tirely out of view. 



20 


RIVER-CROSSIN Gr. 


What the children thought about the picture. Swimming the river. 

The children looked at the picture for some time in silence. 
The colonel always allowed them to look at the pictures first 
themselves before he began to explain them. 

“Well, children, what do you observe?” said he, at length. 

“I observe,” said Dorie, “that there are some men and some 
logs. What are the men doing with the logs ?” 

“ They are building a raft,” said Stanley. “ Don’t you see?” 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “they are building a raft to cross a 
river. One of the greatest difficulties that we have to encounter 
in traveling about in a wild country is to get across the rivers and 
streams, because, you see, there are no roads and no bridges. Nor 
are there usually any boats. Sometimes there are Indians who 
have boats, but not often. So, if we can, we make rafts to float 
ourselves and our baggage across.” 

“ Can’t you always make rafts ?” asked Stanley. 

“No,” said the colonel, “for sometimes there are no trees.” 

“And then what do you do?” asked Stanley. 

“We swim if we can,” said the colonel. “ I have seldom had 
occasion to do that myself, but the emigrants and backwoodsmen 
very often do it. If there is a party, two or three of them swim 
over first. Then they drive their horses or oxen into the water, 
and compel them to swim over.” 

“I should not think they would go,” said Stanley. 

“ They are often unwilling to go at first,” said the colonel, “ but 
the men drive them in, and if they turn round and comb toward 
the shore again, the men drive them back with sticks and stones. 
After a while, one of them begins to see the people on the other 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


21 


Various expedients for crossing rivers without a boat or raft. 

shore who have already gone over, and as he finds he can not get 
back, he pushes on across the water, and then the rest follow 
him. Thus they all get over. 

“ But the greatest difficulty in such cases is about the baggage. 
If the men have a cart, they sometimes have the body of it made 
water-tight, and then they can use it for a boat to float the bag- 
gage over in. It is true that in this way they can only take over 
a little at a time, but by going several times they can get it all 
over. In such cases, if the stream is not very wide, they can 
draw the cart-body back and forth by means of ropes. To do 
this, part of the men stand on the farther side of the river, to draw 
it over with a load by means of one rope, and the rest stand on 
the hither side, to pull it back again by another, after it has been 
emptied. In this way, after a time, they get every thing ferried 
across. 

“ If any of the men can not swim, they have to be towed across,” 
continued the colonel. “ They get into the water, and take hold 
of the end of the cart, and when the cart is pulled over, they are 
drawn over too.” 

“ But suppose they have not any cart,” asked Bell, “ what do 
they do then ?” 

“ Then,” replied her father, “ they are obliged to resort to some 
other contrivance. One way is to shoot some large animal, such 
as a deer or a buffalo, and then make a sort of frame, and stretch 
his skin over it. This makes quite a good boat. The skin it- 
self is water-tight, and the frame keeps it distended. Such a boat 
will carry a very considerable burden. 


22 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


The canvas boat. 


How to stop it from leaking. 


Story of the sailors. 


“ Sometimes, when no skins can be obtained to make a boat of, 
ingenious men have made them of canvas. They make a frame 
of poles and withes, and then stretch canvas over it. They make 
the canvas water-tight, or almost water-tight, by smearing it all 
over with tallow, or some other such substance impervious to wa- 
ter. By this means they get a sort of boat, which helps them 
very much in transporting their baggage and provisions, though it 
is not sufficient to carry men. 

“ Once, though, I read a story of some sailors from a ship who 
went ashore in a boat, and while they were on the shore in a tent 
which they had pitched there, a party of savages came and stole 
their boat. At first the sailors were greatly at a loss to know 
what they should do, but finally they built a boat-frame of poles 
and basket-work, and covered it outside with the canvas of their 
tent. Then, to prevent the water from oozing through too fast, 
they plastered the inside of the boat all over with clay.' They all 
got into this boat when it was finished, and put out to sea. The 
water came in a little through the clay, but not faster than they 
could bail it out. They were eighteen hours in this boat before 
they regained their ship.” 

“ I never thought of clay,” said Stanley. “ The next time I 
get into a leaky boat, I mean to stop up the cracks with clay.” 

“Clay is very good for stopping water,” said the colonel. “Peo- 
ple use it to line the bottoms of artificial ponds with. If the bot- 
tom is formed of sand, the water soaks through into the ground.” 

“But sand is a better bottom to walk on,” said Stanley. 

“ Yes,” said the colonel, “ that is true, and so people, after lining 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


23 


The way to make artificial ponds. Stanley’s plan for a duck-pond. Floats. 


the bottom of the pond with a coating of clay, well pounded down 
to keep the water in, generally put a layer of sand over it for a 
covering. Thus they have a tight pond and a sandy bottom both.” 

“ That’s an excellent way,” said Stanley. “ I mean to make 
a little pond so some day for my ducks.” 

“That will be a very good plan,” said the colonel; “but now 
about boats again. Boats made of basket-work, covered with can- 
vas or skins, are usually not large enough to carry the men as 
well as the baggage. The men have to swim. 

“ When there are men that can not swim,” continued the colo- 
nel, “they may be sometimes helped very much by means of 
floats put under their arms to buoy them up. Bladders make ex- 
cellent floats ; so do any of the other internal organs of animals 
that can be inflated. Sometimes the whole skins of small animals 
are used. They use such skins a great deal on the Tigris and 
Euphrates, in Asia, and have done so from time immemorial. In 
the old sculptures dug up at Nineveh, there are representations 
which were carved thousands of years ago, representing men swim- 
ming over rivers, with small inflated skins under them to buoy 
them up. They make rafts, too, at the present day, on the Tigris, 
with a row of inflated skins on each side, underneath. The skin 
is taken off from the animal as nearly whole as possible. Of 
course, the neck and the legs will be open. These are all tied 
up, however, but one leg, and through that the skin is inflated. 
Then that is tied up too. 

“When the raft is made, the leg of each skin by which the skin 
is inflated is left out on the top of the raft, and I have seen it 


24 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


The raft supported by an inflated skin. Difficulty of inflating the float. 

stated in books that when the air begins to get out of the skins, 
which the men know is the case by the raft settling down too 
much into the water, they can go all around and open the ends 
of these legs, and blow them all up ; but I should think that to 
do this would require pretty hard blowing.” 

“ So should I,” said Stanley. 

“It would be much easier,” said the colonel, “to inflate the 
skins when they are out of the water than when they are in it. 
This is obviously so, because, when a skin is below the surface of 
the water, it is pressed by the water on every side, so that, in blow- 
ing into it, you not only have to force the sides of the skin open, 
but you also have to force the water away which presses against 
the sides. You could try the experiment some time.” 

“ But I have not got any skin to blow up,” said Stanley. 

“You could try it with a bladder,” said the colonel. 

“ Yes,” said Stanley, “ so I could.” 

“ Try it with a bladder,” said the colonel, “the next time you 
go in a swimming. Put the bladder under a board, so as to keep 
it down beneath the surface, and then blow into it with a straw. 
Of course, you will let the neck of the bladder come up by the 
side of the board. You will find it much harder to inflate the 
bladder while it is beneath the surface of the water than it is 
while it is in the air. 

“ If the bladder were down deep in the water,” continued the 
colonel, “the difficulty would be greater still, for the pressure in- 
creases very fast as you go down ; but you can not try the exper- 
iment in that form very well, for I don’t see how you would man- 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


25 


Colonel Markham’s storites about adventures in crossing rivers. 

age to keep the bladder down. Then, besides, you could not get 
_a straw long enough to inflate it with.” 

“Well, now, father, tell us some more about getting across the 
rivers,” said Stanley. 

“At one time,” said the colonel, “I had several rivers and 
streams to cross when I was making an examination of some 
country where I was going to locate a rail-road. I had two as- 
sistants with me, and we went on horseback. We had to go 
about ten miles and back the same day. There were several 
streams to cross, so we each took an India-rubber bag.” 

“What was that for?” asked Stanley. 

“You will see,” said the colonel. “We rode on across a great 
prairie, and at length, about ten o’clock, we came to the first 
stream. We all undressed ourselves on the bank, and put our 
clothes in our India-rubber bags. We tied the necks of our bags 
up tight, and then made a loop in the end of a long string, and 
after tying one end of the string to the neck of our bag, we put 
the loop over our arm and shoulder, so as that when we were 
swimming in the water the bag would come along behind us. 

“ When we were all ready, we drove our horses into the water, 
and then came in ourselves after them, taking hold of their long 
tails with our hands. The horses did not like to go very well, 
but we whipped them a little with sticks, and made them go, and 
if they attempted to turn round, we spattered water in their faces, 
and made them keep on.” 

Stanley laughed aloud at this comical way of getting across a 
river, and even Bell seemed quite amused with it. 


26 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


How the travelers make water-proof bundles. Raft-building. 

“ So the horses went on,” continued the colonel, “ drawing us 
by their tails, and we drawing our clothes-bags. When we got 
across, we opened our bags, took out our clothes, and dressed our- 
selves, and so went on.” 

4 4 What would you have done if you had not had any India- 
rubber bags ?” asked Stanley. 

44 Sometimes,” said the colonel, 4 4 we take cotton cloth and wax 
it, and that answers almost as well, especially if we roll up our 
clothes in it over and over quite tight, and so as to have several 
thicknesses of cloth over the bundle. Then we cord up the bun- 
dle with twine, and scarcely a drop of water can get through. We 
generally have cotton cloth in the camp. If not, we can take some 
sort of cotton garment, and use that for the purpose.” 

44 And how do you get the wax?” asked Bell. 

44 Oh, we can get wax enough in the backwoods,” said the colo- 
nel. 44 There are plenty of bees. They make their honey in 
hollow trees, and the hunters cut the trees down and get it ; and 
they can save as much wax as they want.” 

44 Well,” said Stanley, after drawing a very long breath, “that 
is a funny way of getting across a river ; but, for my part, I would 
much rather go in a boat or on a raft.” 

44 Yes,” said his father, 44 it is much more comfortable to go on 
a raft even ; but it takes some time, and it requires some skill to 
make a good raft. A raft not made well is very apt to come to 
pieces.” 

44 Yes,” said Stanley. “All our rafts that we boys make are 
almost always coming to pieces.” 


RIVER-CROSSING. 


27 


Difference between nailing and lashing the logs. 

“I suppose so,” said the colonel. 

“ Even if we nail the hoards together,” said Stanley, “they still 
come to pieces.” 

“True,” said the colonel. “The motion of the water works 
the joints of the raft so much that the nails soon get loose and 
come out. In the woods we generally lash the parts together with 
some sort of cord or line. We first notch the logs at the parts 
where they are to come together, so as to make them fit each oth- 
er, and then we lash them at the joints. Lashing is much better 
than nailing, for it gives a little.” 

“ Gives ?” said Stanley ; “ but you don’t want it to give : you 
want it to hold.” 

“ Yes,” replied the colonel, “ that is true ; but the lashing gives 
a little to hold the more. That is the reason why they use ropes 
for rigging at sea instead of a frame of wood or iron. The ropes 
give a little in the beginning, but hold the more in the end. We 
may learn a useful lesson from that in respect to the conduct of 
life.” 

“What lesson?” asked Stanley. 

“ I can not stop to explain it to you now,” said the colonel, 
“ but I will do so at some future time, when I have a good oppor- 
tunity. And now I can not talk with you any more. Make 
believe that Dorie is your horse, and that you are making him 
swim across a river, and so drive her out of the room.” 

Stanley accordingly drove Dorie out of the room, leaving Bell 
alone in the study with her father. The colonel was very willing 
that Bell should remain, because she was always so quiet and still. 


28 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


Bell’s drawing lesson. The selection of presents. 

Indeed, Bell had a desk near one of the windows in the study, 
and she now went to her desk, taking with her the drawing which 
her father had made for her of the men building the raft, and set 
herself at work to copy it. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE LESSON OF THE KAFT. 

Colonel Markham had a good opportunity very soon to ex- 
plain to the children the lesson of giving a little to hold the more, 
which had been suggested to him by the practice adopted by the 
backwoodsmen in building their rafts, of lashing the parts togeth- 
er instead of nailing them. The case was this: 

On the day after the conversation narrated in the last chapter, 
the colonel had occasion to go to New York. He returned in the 
evening, bringing some presents for the children. He brought a 
pretty story-book for Bell, and also one for Stanley. He very 
seldom brought books for Dorie, for she could not read. Dorie 
would have liked books as well as the other children, for she liked 
to look at the pictures ; but her father and mother thought that 
she would be more interested in learning to read, if she understood 
that books were only to be given to those who knew how to use 
them. She had one or two books containing pictures and easy 
reading, and her father had promised her that, as soon as she could 
read the books that she had, he would not fail to give her more. 
In the mean time, when he brought the other children books, he 
brought Dorie playthings. 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


20 


Dorie’s plaything. The jingling snake. Playing prisoner. 

I do not think it quite certain that Colonel Markham was right 
in this policy. It is not at all impossible that the present pos- 
session of books might have excited Dorie’s ambition to learn to 
read them even more than the hope of obtaining them at some fu- 
ture time. 

However this may be, the colonel usually brought Dorie some 
sort of plaything when he came back from New York, and on this 
occasion the plaything that he brought her was a small iron chain 
about four feet long. It was of the kind that may be found at 
almost all the hardware stores under the name of jack-chain. 
Dorie had had such a chain before, and she found it an excellent 
plaything. In the first place, she liked very much to jingle it 
about, and to draw it to and fro over the floor, waving her hand 
so as to make it twist and twirl like a serpent. She called it her 
jingling snake. She could use it in a great many other ways. 
Sometimes she would chain up Bell or Stanley with it, pretending 
that they were lions or bears. Sometimes her father would play 
with the chain with her. ’ He would pretend that she was a crim- 
inal caught in a robbery, and would drag her off, apparently in a 
very rough manner, and chain her to a post in the yard. As soon 
as he turned to go away, she would unhook the chain and escape, 
shouting with laughter. Then he would come back to look for 
his prisoner, and pretend to be exceedingly astonished to find that 
she had gone. Indeed, such a chain as this is one of the best play- 
things that a child of five years old or under can possibly have. 
The hook is made in the end of it by just opening the last link a 
little with a pair of pliers. 


30 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


How Dorie spoiled her first chain. Bell shows her book to Dorie. 

Dorie spoiled her first chain by leaving it out in the grass one 
day, and forgetting it, so that it lay there a week. During this 
time there came a rain upon it, and so, when Dorie found it again, 
it was all rusted and spoiled. Stanley scoured it for her after- 
ward as well as he could, by rubbing it with his foot on a sandy 
place on the ground, and then washing it, but he could not make 
it bright as it was before. 

Dorie was very much pleased with the new chain, but after she 
had played with it a little while she put it down, and came to Bell, 
who was sitting in the study, and asked to see her book. 

66 Well,” said Bell, “ come and stand by me, and I will show 
it to you.” 

Dorie stood a moment by her sister’s side, and looked at the 
pictures in the book, and then she wanted to take the book in her 
hand. 

“Well,” said Bell, “ go and get your little chair, and sit down 
by me, and I will let you take it. I am willing to have you take 
my books in your hand because you are so careful. You turn 
over the leaves very gently, and you give the book back to me so 
quick when I ask for it.” 

Dorie was much pleased with this commendation, and when she 
had brought her chair, and taken the book, and sat down to look 
at it, she turned over the leaves more gently and carefully than 
ever, in order to sustain the excellent character which Bell had 
given her. It was very natural that she should do so. 

Bell was desiring all this time to read her book herself, but she 
knew very well that Dorie would be satisfied with looking at it a 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


31 


When Dorie asked to see Stanley’s book, he refused. 

very few minutes, and so she was perfectly contented to wait. 
Dorie turned over the leaves and looked at the pictures. Bell sat 
still all the time, watching Dorie, without, however, seeming to do 
so, and allowing her to take her own time, and to turn over the 
leaves in her own way. She very soon got through the book, and 
then, giving it back to Bell, she rose from her chair and went 
away. She wanted now to see Stanley’s book. 

Stanley was in the parlor, and so Dorie went into the parlor to 
find him. 

Stanley was not willing to let Dorie take his book. 

“ No,” said he, “ Dorie, it will not do. I can not let you have 
it. Father always wishes me to be very particular about my 
books, and if I let you take this you will tumble it.” 

“ Oh no,” said Dorie, “ I will be very particular. Bell let me 
see hers, and you must let me see yours.” 

“No,” said Stanley, “you must not have it.” 

So saying, Stanley held the book high above his head, while 
Dorie stood up on tiptoe and tried to reach it, saying, at the same 
time, “ Give it to me, Stanley ;” but Stanley would not give it to 
her, and very soon Dorie went away mourning and complaining. 
She soon determined that, since she could not obtain the book by 
any open means, she would get it by stratagem. Accordingly, 
she sauntered about carelessly, as if she had given up all thoughts 
of the book, and then, watching her opportunity, when Stanley had 
resumed his reading, she snatched it out of his hands and ran away. 

She had previously taken the precaution to open the door, so 
that she had free course out into the yard and garden. Stanley, 


32 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


The contest. The children appeal to their father. 

of course, sprang up and ran after her, calling out to her in a loud 
and angry manner to stop and give him back his book. But 
Dorie would not stop. Stanley overtook her just after she had 
entered the garden-gate. Dorie clapped the book under her arm, 
and held it there very tight. Stanley proceeded to take it away 
from her by force. He soon succeeded, of course, though in the 
struggle the book was considerably tumbled. 

Stanley went back mournfully into the house, looking at the 
leaves of his book as he went, and declaring that he should go di- 
rectly and complain to his father. 

Colonel Markham was in his little shop. He had been there 
all the time when Bell had shown Dorie her book, and had heard 
the conversation which took place then, but he knew nothing in 
respect to the- difficulty between Dorie and Stanley until Stanley 
came to tell him. 

When Stanley went in to carry his complaint to his father, Do- 
rie followed him timidly to hear what he would say. 

“Father,” said he, holding out his book, “see what Dorie has 
been doing to my book.” 

“ Oh, Stanley, said Dorie, “ I did not do it. You did it your- 
self taking it away from me. I did not hurt it at all.” 

Colonel Markham inquired into the particulars of the case, and 
Stanley explained them. The colonel, however, instead of look- 
ing displeased and troubled, as both Stanley and Dorie had ex- 
pected, seemed to appear rather gratified. 

Tes, said he, “I understand it. I am very glad it happen- 
ed. It is just what I wanted.” 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


33 


Colonel Markham’s decision. 


Compensation. 


“ Why, father ! ” exclaimed Stanley. 

“ I don’t mean that I am glad that your book has got tumbled,” 
said his father, “but I am glad that the incident has happened. 
You will see by-and-by.” 

Colonel Markham then proceeded to explain to Dorie that she 
did wrong in attempting to take away the book from Stanley 
without his consent. “You see,” said he, “the book was his 
property, and the rule of right is that every person is to have the 
entire control and disposal of his own property, without being mo- 
lested or disturbed in it by any body. It would have been kind 
in Stanley to have let you have his book a few minutes, but 
whether he would do so or not was for him to decide, not you. It 
was his property, and he had a perfect right to refuse to let you 
have it, if he chose to do so. In taking it away from him with- 
out his consent you did wrong, and I think you are responsible 
for all the damage that was done in consequence of it.” 

Dorie hung her head and did not reply. A moment afterward 
she looked up again timidly, as if to see what her father was go- 
ing to do about it. 

“I think,” continued the colonel, “that you ought to have 
some punishment for doing so. Perhaps the best punishment 
would be for you to give Stanley something of yours, to compen- 
sate him for the damage done to his book.” 

“ Well,” said Dorie, “ only I don’t know what to give him, un- 
less I give him my chain.” 

So saying, Dorie looked down upon her chain, which she hap- 
pened to have then in her hand. 

c 


34 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


How to smooth a tumbled book. 


What will not yield must often break. 


“ That would be too much,” said Stanley. 

“ I might let him have it to play with a little while,” said Do- 
rie, “if that would do.” 

“Well,” said her father, “I think that would do very well. 
You might let him have the chain to play with long enough to 
compensate him for the damage. In the mean time, I will damp- 
en the tumbled leaves of the book by holding them over steam, 
and then put the book in press, and that will smooth them out 
again almost as they were before.” 

This arrangement was finally agreed upon, and then Colonel 
Markham proceeded to explain to the children why he had said 
that he was glad that the difficulty had occurred. 

“ The reason is,” said he, “ that it gives me an excellent oppor- 
tunity of teaching you the lesson which I said was to be learned 
from raft-building, in respect to giving a little at the beginning in 
order to secure a more sure and certain hold in the end. If the 
parts of the raft are nailed together, the fastening is perfectly un- 
yielding and rigid. It will not willingly give way in the least ; 
and if by any strain or concussion it is forced to give way, it can 
not recover itself. It is so far broken, and then, when the next 
concussion comes, it is broken more. It breaks because it will 
not yield. 

“ On the other hand, if the fastenings are made by lashing the 
parts together, the cords or lashings, whatever they are, will give 
a little when the strain or concussion comes, and then recover 
themselves by their elasticity, and bring back every thing as it 
was before. That is the way that Bell did in respect to her book. 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


35 


Tenacity and gentleness. That which is one’s fault is sometimes another’s misfortune. 

The urgency of Dorie’s desire to see her book might be considered 
as a sort of concussion. Her kindness and gentleness of spirit was 
like the elasticity of the rope. She yielded a little, while yet she 
retained her hold in respect to the final end in view — that is, the 
taking care of her book. She did not lose sight of this, but held 
to it firmly. She was yielding in respect to the means, but te- 
nacious in regard to the end. 

44 Your mode of managing, on the other hand,” continued the 
colonel, 44 was like the holding of nails in a raft. They will not 
yield at all, and so they are worked loose, and the raft comes to 
pieces. You would not yield at all. You held your book high 
above Dorie’s head, and would not let her look at it. Thus you 
made a difficulty which ended in your book being damaged. Bell 
yielded a little to Dorie’s urgency, and then recovered herself, and 
so saved her book. You resisted it stiffly, and lost yours.” 

“But, father,” said Stanley, “it seems to me that was her 
fault, and not mine.” 

44 True,” said his father, 44 it was her fault just as it is the fault 
of the winds and the waves that the raft is broken to pieces when 
the fastenings are wrong. But winds and waves will be violent, 
and the people that we have to do with in the conduct of life will 
act wrong ; and the part of a wise man is so to regulate his con- 
duct that he can go on safely and accomplish his purposes, not- 
withstanding the wrong-doing of others, just as the backwoods- 
man or the sailor must learn to make his raft, so that it shall go 
safely notwithstanding the violence of the currents and the rude 
concussions of the waves ; and one important principle in doing 


36 


THE LESSON OF THE KAFT. 


Stanley’s resolve. Substitutes for rope. Withes. 

this is that we should not he too stiff and inflexible in our bear- 
ing, but that we should yield in little things for the sake of better 
securing the great ends we have in view.” 

“Yes, father,” said Stanley, “I believe I understand it; and 
the next time I’ll let Dorie see my book.” 

“ That’s right,” said the colonel; “ and the next time you make 
a raft, I advise you to try lashing the parts together instead of 
nailing them. Take two long poles for the sides, and two shorter 
ones for the ends, and lash them at the crossings ; then lay boards 
on, and lash the boards to the poles. This you can easily do if 
you bore holes in the boards at the proper places.” 

“Yes, sir, I will,” said Stanley. 

“You can use any sort of cord or string that you can find,” 
said the colonel. “ In the woods they employ a variety of mate- 
rials for this purpose, because, you see, they do not always have 
ropes to spare. Sometimes they use withes. Withes make very 
good lashings, though it requires some skill to put them on well 
and strong.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I have seen the farmers use withes in 
building fences. They tie the stakes together with them. I have 
tried to do it myself, but I never could.” 

“It requires some skill and some strength,” said the colonel. 
“Withes must be put on, too, when they are green, and when they 
are once put on they must be suffered to remain, for in drying they 
become stiff and brittle. You can not use them over and over 
again, as you can a rope. Still, they hold very well so long as 
they remain in the position in which they are first placed. In 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


37 


The elm-tree roots. Bark for lashings. Another picture. 

the water, too, I suppose they would remain supple and tough a 
long time. 

“ Besides withes,” continued the colonel,. “ the roots of some 
trees answer very well for binding and lashing. There is the 
elm, for example, which has very long and slender roots. When 
I was a boy, we used to get them out for whip-lashes.” 

“How could you get them out of the ground?” asked Stanley. 

“ Why, the trees grew on the shore of a river,” said the colo- 
nel, “and as the current washed away the bank, the roots were 
left dangling in the water. We used to climb down and cut off 
the longest ones that we could find. We cut them off with our 
jack-knives.” 

“ That was a good way,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel; “and such long roots answer very 
well for binding and lashing ; but what travelers use most for 
lashing rafts is the bark of trees, which they pull off in long 
strips.” 

“ I should not suppose that bark would answer at all,” said 
Stanley. 

“It is only certain kinds of trees that have the right sort of 
bark,” said the colonel. “ And, now I think of it, I have another 
picture of making a raft, which shows the people stripping off the 
bark from the logs they are making it of, in order to use it for 
lashings.” 

So saying, the colonel went to his portfolio, and after looking- 
over the pictures there, selected the one which he had referred to, 
and laid it down before the children so that they could see it. 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


as 


Description of the picture of men preparing lashings. 



BARK FOR LASHINGS. 


“ Here it is,” said he. “ The men are bringing the logs out ot 
the woods. They have already brought several of them, and have 
thrown them down at the margin of the water. A little to the 
left, we see a man on the shore stripping the bark off from one of 
the logs. The bark seems to be very fibrous and tough, and very 
well suited to the purpose of lashing. 

“ In the distance, we see in the woods a man at work with an 
axe cutting down another tree.” 


THE LESSON OF THE HAFT. 


ay 

Different kinds of bark. Raw-hide lashings. The broken gunstock. 

The children looked at the picture very attentively, and espe- 
cially at that part of it which represented the man at work strip- 
ping off the hark from the log. 

“ Some kinds of hark are brittle,” said the colonel ; “ others 
are fibrous and flexible. Fibrous means stringy. This bark, you 
see, is fibrous, and the fibres run lengthwise of the stem of the 
tree. They are very strong, too, and so make excellent strings. 

“Besides the bark of trees,” said the colonel, “savages and 
backwoodsmen use thongs made of the hides of animals for lash- 
ings. Thongs make excellent lashings, they are so strong. We 
sometimes use them for mending broken things. If an axle-tree 
of a cart is broken, or a gunstock, we mend it by winding thongs 
of raw-hide round and round the broken place ; or a piece of hide 
with the hair scraped off can be fastened round the broken thing. 
Once I knew a hunter who broke his gunstock all to pieces bang- 
ing it against a tree in killing a bear. He put the pieces all care- 
fully together again, and slipped a part of the skin of the leg of a 
buffalo over it. He had first softened the skin and scraped all the 
hair off. He also chose a part of the leg where the hide was just 
large enough to fit the gunstock, and drew it on tight, as you 
would draw on a stocking. The hide shrunk, of course, in dry- 
ing, and it bound the parts together so as to make the gunstock 
almost as good as new.” 

“ That was a good way,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” replied the colonel, “it was an excellent way. And 
now I can not talk with you any more at present.” 

So saying, the colonel resumed his work upon his instruments, 


40 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


Stanley’s game of the tame lion. 

and Stanley and Dorie went away. As they went, Dorie said that 
she would lend Stanley her chain, to punish herself for running 
away with his hook, any time he pleased to take it. 

“ Well,” said Stanley, “ I’ll take it now ; only you must play 
with me.” 

So Stanley made believe that he was a lion, and he began to 
call upon Dorie to chain him. 

“I am your lion,” said he, “ your tame lion; but I begin to 
feel ferocious. You had better chain me up.” 

So saying, he began to growl and to prance about in a very 
alarming manner. 

Dorie immediately seized him, and began to put the chain round 
his ankle, but Stanley went on growling, and bounding about, and 
pawing at Dorie with his claws, so that it was quite difficult for 
her to secure him. Dorie, however, at length succeeded, by speak- 
ing to him in a very authoritative manner, and striking him with 
her handkerchief, in subduing his ferocity so far as to get the chain 
secured round his ankle. She then led him off triumphantly to- 
ward the garden gate, and fastened him there to the post. She 
then said that she would go into the house and get him something 
to eat, and she went away and left him there, rolling about upon 
the grass and growling in a very terrific manner. 

When she came back the lion had got away, and was prowling 
about in the garden and growling. Dorie ran to catch him again, 
and after some difficulty she succeeded in bringing him back, and 
chaining him to the post once more. She then fed him with a 
piece of bread which she had brought for the purpose. As .soon 


THE LESSON OF THE RAFT. 


41 


The end of the game. Good-natured punishments. 

as Stanley had eaten the bread he ceased growling, and, resuming 
his natural tone of voice, he said, “ There, Dorie, don’t you think 
you have been punished enough ?” 

“A little more,” said Dorie, in an entreating tone. 

So Stanley went on playing lion a little longer, and got Dorie 
into a great frolic. At last they both concluded that the punish- 
ment had been carried far enough, and Dorie took her chain again 
and put it in her pocket. 

It may seem strange that such play as this between Dorie and 
her brother should be considered as punishment in any sense 
whatever. And yet it did really serve as punishment, and it an- 
swered the purpose not at all the less efficiently on account of its 
pleasing and amusing Dorie instead of putting her to pain. It 
served just as well to fix and make permanent in her mind the im- 
pression that in carrying off her brother’s book she had violated 
the rights of property and done wrong, as if she had been shut up 
in a closet for the offense, or sent to bed in sorrow and tears half 
an hour before the accustomed time. 

Colonel Markham often resorted to such punishments as these. 
He called them good-natured punishments. He liked them very 
much for three reasons : first, they saved him and Mrs. Markham 
a great deal of pain ; for, whenever any painful punishments were 
inflicted on the children, they pained him and their mother more 
even than they did the children; then, besides, they saved the 
children pain ; and, lastly, in many cases they were more effica- 
cious than any other plan that could be adopted in producing the 
intended effect. 


42 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


Inadvertent offenses. 


The picture of the great encampment. 


I ought, however, to say, that such play punishments as these 
will only answer for slight faults, committed through mere inad- 
vertence or thoughtlessness, and without any evil intent. Offenses 
which result from a deliberate and determined intention to do 
wrong, or from a disobedient and rebellious spirit of mind, must 
be managed in a very different manner ; but then children who 
are well brought up from the beginning will seldom fall into faults 
of this serious character. 


CHAPTER IY. 

THE ENCAMPMENT. 

“ The picture which I am going to show you this evening,” said 
the colonel, as he opened his portfolio one evening, a few days after 
the occurrences described in the last chapter, “is a picture of a 
great encampment. It is an encampment of a large company of 
emigrants on the banks of a river. Indeed, I am going to show 
you two pictures to-night : one represents the company encamp- 
ing on the shores of a river, and in the other we see them in a 
march across the plains. 

These great companies are formed of emigrants going to settle 
on the new lands in the western country. I have often seen them 
in the course of my travels. The picture which I am going to 
show you first represents a company that I saw last summer.” 

So saying, the colonel took the picture out of the portfolio and 
laid it upon the table before the children. 

“You see it is a very large encampment,” said the colonel. 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


43 


The emigrants about to cross the river. 



THE ENCAMPMENT. 


“ There are a great many men, women, and children to he seen 
in the foreground, standing on the hank of the river. In the rear, 
to the right, we see some of the wagons. They are covered with 
canvas. Near them are several people sitting round a fire at the 
door of a tent. 

“ The expedition is about crossing the river. They have a 
large boat.” 

“ Where did they get that boat ?” asked Stanley. 

“ Perhaps they brought it with them,” replied the colonel. 
“ When the expedition is large, they sometimes bring a boat or 


44 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


Transporting the boats. Wooden, copper, and India-rubber boats. 

two with them. A pretty good-sized boat can be slung under 
two pair of cart-wheels, so as to be brought along very easily, or 
it may be placed on the top of the load in one of the wagons. In 
such a case, they place it bottom upward, and thus it forms a sort 
of roof, and helps to shelter the goods underneath it from the 
rain. 

“ These boats are sometimes made of wood and sometimes of 
copper. There is a kind also made of India-rubber cloth.” 

“ Which are the best ?” asked Stanley. 

“It is difficult to say,” replied the colonel. “ They all have 
their peculiar advantages. A wooden boat can be repaired if there 
are carpenters in the company, no matter how much it gets broken 
or damaged. But then it is comparatively heavy and clumsy, and 
it is very apt to get leaky by being carted over the land in the 
sun. The copper boats, on the other hand, though more difficult 
to make, requiring expensive machinery, are lighter, for copper is 
more tenacious than wood, and copper boats can be made much 
thinner than wooden ones. Then, again, if they are thrown 
against a rock in going down a rapid river, the sides bend but do 
not break, and the boat can easily be restored to its shape again 
by blows of a hammer. India-rubber boats are more portable, for 
they can be folded up and put in the bottom of a wagon. 

“ I rather think,” said the colonel, “ that the boats in this pic- 
ture were not brought with the emigrants, but were made by them 
on the bank of the river.” 

“ Have they got two boats ?” asked Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel; “one has just left the bank of the 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


45 


Halting to build boats. 


Emigrant children. 


river with a load of emigrants in it. The other is almost across 
the river.” 

So saying, the colonel pointed to the small boat which you see 
in the picture, in the distance, to the left. You can see also in 
the picture, beyond the small boat, a point on the other side of the 
river covered with trees, where the boats are going to land. Some 
of the party have been already conveyed across. We see them 
on the shore. 

“ What makes you think, father, that they built these boats ?” 
asked Stanley. 

“ Because,” said his father, “ they look too large to be brought 
across the country. Besides, in so large a party of emigrants as 
this, they usually have a number of carpenters, blacksmiths, and 
other mechanics, and are abundantly supplied with all necessary 
tools, so that they can build boats very well by stopping a few 
days for the purpose, and a halt rests and refreshes the men and 
the animals very much.” 

“And the women and children too, I should think,” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said her father, “and the women and children too. 
But then the women and children do not need to rest so much, for 
they usually ride in the wagons, while the men walk.” 

“ I can see some children,” said Dorie, “in the camp.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I can see two, a boy and a girl. The 
girl is sitting down, and the boy is standing by the side of her. I 
should like to be there with them, it is such a pleasant place.” 

“ I should like to be there too,” said Dorie, “ only I should not 
like to go across that wide river in such a loaded boat.” 


46 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


Settling in the West. 


Camping out. 


The processions. 


“The great companies of emigrants that traverse the Western 
country in this way,” resumed the colonel, “ come sometimes from 
the Eastern states, and sometimes they come across the Atlantic 
from different countries in Europe. They band together — a great 
number of families in one expedition. They do this so as to pro- 
tect each other better from wild beasts or from Indians, and to 
help each other along. Sometimes they continue their journey 
very far to the West, in order to find a place where land is cheap, 
and where they can buy a large number of farms in one tract. 
They go by the rail-roads till they get as far west as the rail-roads 
go. Then they buy wagons and oxen, and pack all their goods 
and baggage in the wagons, and set off across the country. They 
encamp at night in any sheltered place they can find. A grove 
of trees makes an excellent shelter. If there are no trees, perhaps 
they can find high rocks which will keep off the wind. If they 
have no better shelter, they get under their wagons, and pile up 
their baggage on the side toward the wind. Sometimes they carry 
tents with them. If the night is warm and pleasant, they often 
need scarcely any shelter at all, especially for the men. They lie 
down any where, with a bag, or a saddle, or a bundle, or almost 
any thing else for a pillow. 

“When they come to a wide river, they usually encamp upon 
it for two or three days, to rest the party and to provide the means 
of going across. After they get across, they yoke the oxen, and 
load up the wagons, and set out on their journey through the coun- 
try in a long train. I have got another drawing here to show 
you how the train looks.” 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


47 


The train of emigrants upon the prairie. 

So saying, Colonel Markham took out another drawing from his 
portfolio, and laid it down upon the table. Here it is. It rep- 
resents a long train of wagons advancing in a continuous line across 
an open prairie. The wagons are drawn by oxen, harnessed with 
yokes of a very simple construction. The men are seen walking 
by the side of the oxen. There are some persons on horseback 
to accompany the train. 



THE WAGON-TRAIN. 


The children gazed at the long train for some moments in si- 
lence. Stanley then undertook to count the wagons, but he did 
not succeed. He counted nine, but could not go any farther. 


48 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


Traveling without roads. Trails. Mending the trail. 

“Oh, there’s a little dog,” said Dorie. 

So saying, she pointed to a little dog that you see in the picture 
near the foreground. 

“ There is one woman walking,” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “the women sometimes walk a little 
while when they get tired of sitting in the wagons, hut generally 
they ride.” 

“ But, father,” said Stanley, “ I thought you told us there were 
not any roads in these countries. How can they get along with 
oxen and wagons without any roads ?” 

“In a great many places there are no roads,” said the colonel, 
“ and there are never any bridges across the streams. Strictly 
speaking, indeed, there are no roads any where. There is only 
what is called a trail. These trails are originally paths made by 
the Indians, or by wild beasts in going to and from the places 
where they find water. There are a great many of these trails in 
all parts of the country, and the hunters, and travelers, and the 
great emigrant trains naturally fall into them. The principal 
trails gradually get worn into some semblance of a road, but still 
the trains find a great many very bad places in them.” 

“ And what do they do when they come to the bad places ?” 
asked Stanley. 

“Oh, they mend them up as well as they can,” said the colo- 
nel, “ and then go on. If the place is miry, they throw in bushes, 
and fagots of sticks, or bundles of grass, till they make it hard 
enough to go over. If it is stony, they throw the stones out of 
the way. If they come to a stream that is narrow and not deep. 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


49 


Hunting parties. Bear’s meat. The buffaloes. 

they drive through it. If the hanks are too steep for the wagons 
to go up and down, they dig them away till they make a gradual 
descent and ascent, unless, indeed, some other train has been that 
way before, and has performed the work for them. If the river, at 
the place where they come to it, is too deep to be forded, they fol- 
low up the bank till they come to a place where it is more shal- 
low. They are usually guided to such a place by the trail made 
by parties that have passed that way before. 

“ They have to take a guide, too, to show them the way, for 
they very often come to branch trails leading off in various direc- 
tions. Sometimes they send out parties to shoot animals that 
are good to eat, such as deer, bears, buffaloes, and wild turkeys.” 

“ Are bears good to eat ?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “ I had a nice supper from the bear 
that your bearskin belonged to. I will tell you about it some 
day. But bears are not as common as deer and buffaloes. Buf- 
faloes are found in immense herds. Here is a small herd of them 
in this picture of the wagon-train. They look very small because 
they are so far off.” 

So saying, Colonel Markham pointed to the herd of buffaloes 
that you see in the distance, in the picture of the wagon-train. 

“ I see some men,” said the colonel, “ going off toward them. 
I expect they are going to try to shoot some of them. If they can, 
they will carry the meat to the next camp, and cook it for the sup- 
per of the company. They cook it over their camp-fires. They 
have plenty of kettles, and spits, and gridirons, which they have 
brought with them in their wagons.” 

I) 


19 


50 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


Sickness among the emigrants causes great suffering. 

“I should think they would have an excellent good time,” said 
Stanley. “ I should like to go emigrating very much.” 

“They do have a very good time,” said the colonel, “when 
they are all well, and the weather is pleasant, and they have plen- 
ty to eat and drink, and every thing goes prosperously with them. 
But sometimes these companies suffer dreadfully from fatigue, ex- 
posure, sickness, and famine. The cholera breaks out among them 
sometimes, or some other epidemical and fatal disease, and, at 
length, if a great many get sick, the caravan is compelled to travel 
so slowly that the provisions get spent, and then they are reduced 
to the greatest possible distress. There are some routes, such as 
those leading to Oregon and California, which are traveled by great 
numbers of caravans, following each other in succession, all sum- 
mer long ; and sometimes, especially when the season is very dry, 
the grass becomes exhausted, and the water dries up in many pla- 
ces, so that the cattle starve or die of thirst, and then, if the people 
themselves are attacked with cholera, their sufferings are terrible. 
Those who die can not rest in peace even in their graves.” 

“ Why not ?” asked Stanley. 

“ The wolves come at night, as soon as the caravan has gone 
on,” replied the colonel, “ and dig up the graves in order to get 
out the bodies and devour them.” 

“Dreadful!” said Bell. 

“ They ought to bury them deeper,” said Stanley. 

“ They do bury them deep,” said Colonel Markham, “ and they 
resort to all sorts of contrivances to prevent the wolves from get- 
ting them. They pile stones or logs over the place, and try va- 


THE ENCAMPMENT. 


51 


Wolves. 


Graves in the wilderness. 


The coffin of barrels. 


rious other modes of protecting it. A traveler who had followed 
one of these routes a few summers ago, a short time after the great 
caravans had passed, told me, that for many miles he found graves 
in great numbers that had been dug up by the wolves, and the 
bodies torn out and eaten. The clothing and the bones were scat- 
tered all around. Many of these graves had boards set up at the 
head of them instead of stones, with short inscriptions on them, 
some of which stated that the person had died of cholera.” 

“Could not they get grave-stones?” asked Dorie. 

“No,” said the colonel, “not very well. It would have taken 
too much time. Some of the graves were very deep. There was 
one which had a pen of logs built round it, to keep the wolves 
away. The logs were heavy, so that the wolves could not move 
them, but they dug down at the side and undermined them, and 
so got the body, though they had to go down five feet to reach it. 
There was another where the body had been put into two barrels. 
The head and shoulders had been put into one barrel, and then an- 
other had been placed over the feet in such a manner that, when 
the edges of the two barrels were brought together in the centre, 
the body was wholly inclosed.” 

“ I understand,” said Stanley ; “it made a sort of coffin.” 

“ Yes,” said the colonel. “ They had not time to make a coffin 
of boards, and probably they had no boards that they could spare. 
But these barrels had perhaps contained flour, and had been emp- 
tied, or nearly emptied, by the flour having been used.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I suppose that was the way. I think 
it was a very good contrivance.” 


52 


THE BEAR. 


Ingenious protection. 


Suffering from thirst. 


The bear. 


“But it was not effectual,” said the colonel. “The wolves 
gnawed through the barrels and tore the body out.” 

“The horrid monsters!” exclaimed Stanley. 

“ Yes, they are horrid monsters indeed,” said the colonel. 
“ There is, however, one way of protecting a grave from them, 
and that is, to make it very wide, and then, in filling it up, to 
throw in, with the earth, a great quantity of thorns, or briers, or 
prickly pears. Then the wolves can not dig, for the thorns and 
briers tear the skin and flesh of their faces as soon as they begin, 
and force them to desist. 

“Companies of emigrants,” continued the colonel, “ often suffer 
dreadfully from thirst. They usually take provisions with them, 
but water they expect to find on the way, and when it fails them 
they suffer extremely. On the whole, it is a very serious under- 
taking to make a journey of a thousand miles or more across a 
desolate and uninhabited country, or one inhabited only by wild 
savages.” 

“Tell us something about the savages, father,” said Stanley. 

“I will do that some other time,” said his father. “I have a 
drawing somewhere which represents a party of Indians. But 
now no more to-day.” 


CHAPTER Y. 

THE BEAR. 

When Stanley received the bearskin which his father brought 
home to him he was very greatly pleased, and he formed quite a 


THE BEAK. 


oi> 


Stanley’s plan for a sofa. Other uses for the bearskin. 

number of plans in respect to the disposition that he should make 
of it. * 

“ I have a great mind, mother,” said he to his mother, one day, 
“to make a sofa covering of it.” 

“Well,” said his mother, “ I think that would be one very good 
plan.” 

“ I can make the frame myself,” continued Stanley, “ in my 
shop, and then spread the bearskin all over it, and nail it down. 
The sofa need not be very long — -just long enough for me and 
Bell to sit on together, or for me and Dorie.” 

“ Dorie and me,” said Mrs. Markham, correcting Stanley’s 
phraseology. He was very apt to mistake, in this way, the proper 
order of precedence when speaking of himself and another person. 

“Yes, Dorie and me,” said Stanley. “I think it would be a 
handsome little sofa to keep in the parlor.” 

“That is one very good plan,” repeated his mother. “Now 
think of some more. Think of as many as you can, and then 
choose the best one.” 

“ I might make a rug of it,” said Stanley, “to spread down be- 
fore the fire in the winter evenings. Then I could lie down on it 
and warm, my feet.” 

“ Yes,” said his mother, “ that is another excellent plan.” 

“ Or I might make a sleigh-robe of it,” continued Stanley. “I 
could have my name painted on the back of it, in black letters, so 
as to mark it as mine ; and then, in the winter, when I go to take 
a sleigh-ride, I could spread it over my lap and around my feet, 
to keep my feet warm.” 


54 


THE BEAR. 


How to use a bearskin. 

“ That’s an excellent plan too,” said Stanley’s mother. “ In- 
deed,” said she, “ I think you might use it for all those purposes, 
provided only that you don’t nail it to your sofa. You might have 
the skin cut square, and lined with some suitable stuff, and then 
keep it in that form to use in any way you please. You might 
make a wooden bench for a sofa, and spread the skin over it when 
you wished to use it in that way. Perhaps you could contrive 
some mode of tying it at the corners, to keep it from slipping off. 
Then, when you wished to use it for any other purpose, you could 
untie the strings and take it off. When you go out to ride in the 
winter, you could use it as a sleigh-robe. When you go a coast- 
ing, you could fold it up square, and make a cushion of it to put 
upon your sled. In the evening, when you come home, you can 
spread it down upon the carpet before the fire, and lie down upon 
it, or you can spread it down in a corner of the room, and you and 
Dorie can make believe that it is your camp.” 

Stanley was greatly pleased with his mother’s suggestions, and 
he determined to adopt her plan. He accordingly took the skin 
to a saddle and harness maker who worked in the neighborhood, 
and had it trimmed square and lined, and then bound neatly around 
the edges ; and in the course of the fall and winter following he 
used it a great deal in all the different ways that his mother had 
suggested, and in many others. 

One cool evening in September, Stanley and Dorie were play- 
ing with the bearskin in the back parlor, when Bell came to call 
them into the study, saying that her father was going to show 
them another picture. 


THE BEAR. 


55 


The story of the bear. Who killed him ? 

“Well,” said Dorie, “wait till I unchain my bear.” 

Stanley had wrapped himself up in the bearskin, and was pre- 
tending that he was a bear, and Dorie had chained him to one of 
the legs of the sofa. She, however, immediately released him at 
Bell’s call ; and, after putting the bearskin and the chain away, 
all three of the children went into the study. 

Stanley asked his father if he would not that evening tell them 
the story about how he killed the bear. 

“I did not kill him myself,” said Colonel Markham, “ and I 
don’t believe that you can find out in six guessings who did kill 
him.” 

“ One of your men ?” said Stanley. 

“No,” said the colonel. 

“ Some hunter in the woods ?” said Bell. 

“No,” said the colonel. 

“ Oh, I know,” said Stanley ; “ the Indians ?” 

“No,” replied the colonel, “it was not the Indians.” 

“Was it another bear ?” asked Bell. 

“No,” said the colonel, “but you are coming nearer to it.” 

“ The wolves !” exclaimed Stanley, eagerly ; “ the wolves !” 

“No,” said the colonel, “it was not the wolves.” 

The children could not think of any more suppositions to make, 
and so they gave up. Colonel Markham then told them that the 
bear killed himself, and he then proceeded to explain to them how 
it was done. 

“ In the first place,” said the colonel, “ I will show you a draw- 
ing of the place. I made a sketch of it at the time. It was at 


56 


THE BEAR. 


The log across the stream. The spring-gun. 

a place where a large log 
was lying across a mount- 
ain stream. The bed of the 
stream was very rough and 
rocky, and we saw by the 
tracks that were near that 
a bear had crossed over on 
the log. We thought that 
perhaps he might go across 
again, so we set a spring- 
gun for him. I will explain 
to you how we did it. 

“A spring-gun is a gun fastened by itself in some place, with a 
string tied to the trigger. The string is carried across the path 
where the animal that you wish to shoot is expected to come along, 
and the gun is fixed in such a position that it points directly to the 
place where the string passes across the path. A hunter who wass 
with me at that time set the gun. I should not have known how 
to do it. Indeed, it requires great skill to set a spring-gun well.” 

“How did the hunter set it?” asked Stanley. 

“ First,” replied the colonel, “ he chose a small tree on the bank 
of the stream, a little way above the place where the log crossed 
it. He drove a stake down in the ground near the tree. Then 
he placed the gun against the tree and the stake in such a man- 
ner that the stock of it came against the tree pretty hear the 
ground, and the muzzle came against the stake. He then lashed 
the gun firmly in this position.” 



THE LOG. 


THE HEAR. 


57 


How the hunter set a spring-gun for the bear. 

‘‘Was the gun loaded?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “he loaded the gun first. When the 
gun was placed in the proper position, the next thing was to rig 
a lever above it. The lever was a short bar of wood about two 
feet long. The lever was lashed by the middle to another tree 
just behind the gun. The lashing of the lever was made loose 
purposely, so as to allow the upper and lower end of it to move a 
little back and forth. 

“The object of this lever,” said the colonel, “was to change 
the direction of the force which the bear would impart to the string 
by running against it. If the end of the string that the bear was 
to run against had been fastened directly to the trigger of the gun, 
then the bear, by running against the string, would only have pull- 
ed the trigger forward ; whereas the trigger must be pulled back 
to discharge the gun. This is effected by means of the lever. 
The string that the bear was to run against was tied to the upper 
end of the lever, and there was another short string tied from the 
trigger to the lower end of it. Then, you see, when the bear should 
run against the string, and so pull it, the upper end of the lever 
would be pulled forward, and that would cause the lower end to 
be drawn back, and so the gun would be discharged. 

“Yes, sir,” said Stanley, “I see.” 

“I don’t understand about the trigger very well,” said Dorie. 

“ No,” said the colonel, “ I don’t think that you can understand 
it very well. It is not necessary, indeed, that young ladies should 
know much about guns and triggers. However, this you can un- 
derstand, that the gun was placed on the bank in such a position 


58 


THE BEAK. 


' The report of the spring-gun. The wounded bear. Difficulty of entrapping animals. 

as to point to the middle of the log ; and then that a string was 
passed across the log, a little way above it, so that the bear should 
run against it if he attempted to go across. One end of this 
string was fastened to the lever, so that when the string was pull- 
ed it should cause the lever to pull the trigger and fire the gun.” 

“Well, father,” said Stanley, “ did the plan succeed?” 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “It is very difficult to set a gun in 
this way so that it will succeed, but it does sometimes, and it 
happened that it did in this instance. Our camp was at a short 
distance from the place. We set the gun in the evening, and the 
next morning, just after daybreak, we heard a report. We seized 
our other guns and ran to the place, and there we saw a mon- 
strous bear floundering among the rocks in the stream, just be- 
low the log. He had been wounded by the spring-gun, and had 
fallen there, and could not get out.” 

“Good!” said Stanley, clapping his hands. 

Bell did not seem to sympathize much with Stanley in the 
pleasure which he manifested on hearing of the result of the mach- 
ination which had been planned against the bear. Indeed, she 
pitied the victim of the plot, and could not help wishing that he 
had escaped uninjured. 

“ It is very difficult,” continued the colonel, “ to shoot any wild 
animal by such a contrivance as this. They are generally too 
cunning to be entrapped in any such way. At least, sometimes 
they seem very cunning, and yet at other times contrivances of a 
very simple character indeed suffice to deceive them. It is said 
that the Hindoos catch wild ducks by putting a calabash on their 


THE BEAR. 


59 


The calabash stratagem. The artificial deer. Scenting. 

heads, and wading out into the pond where the ducks are swim- 
ming, holding nothing hut their heads covered with the calabash 
above the water. The ducks think it is a calabash floating, and 
so the hunter can come as near them as he pleases, and take hold 
of their legs, and pull them under water one by one.” 

“ Do you really think they do so ?” asked Stanley. 

“ I do not know,” said the colonel ; “ I have seen it stated that 
they do. At any rate, I know that in shooting deer, or other timid 
animals, the hunter sometimes cuts out the shape of a deer, or 
of some other animal that the deer would not be afraid of, in can- 
vas, and fastens it upon a light frame in such a manner that he 
can carry it before him so as to conceal himself with it until he 
gets near enough to shoot the deer.” 

“Why, father,” said Stanley, “the canvas deer would have to 
come up sideways.” 

“True,” said his father; “but by going back and forth in a 
sort of zigzag direction, the hunter can manage to get near enough 
to the herd of deer after a while, but it requires a great deal of 
maneuvering and dexterity. 

“ Then, besides,” continued the colonel, “ the hunter, in such a 
case, must take care to come up to the herd on the side opposite 
to the wind, for if the wind blows from him toward the deer they 
smell him.” 

“Can, they smell so far?” asked Stanley. 

“ Yes,” said his father; “it is a curious fact, that there is a pe- 
culiar emanation that goes out from the body of man that is very 
distinctly perceived by almost all animals, though man can not 


60 


THE BEAR. 


Animals have a remarkable power of the sense of smell. 


perceive it liimself. If a man touches any thing, or even walks 
over the ground, he leaves this scent^behind him, and animals who 
come to the place know that he has been there, and often will not 
touch, what he has placed there for them, on account of the scent 
which he leaves with it. Some people suppose that the scent of 
man is naturally repulsive and disagreeable to animals, and that 
it is for that reason that they -fly from it; but this, I think, can 
hardly be the case, for dogs are extremely sensible to this smell, 
and yet they have no dislike to man whatever. 

“ Dogs can even distinguish the smell of one man from that of 
another. A good dog will track his own master along a road 
where several other people besides his master have been walking 
along. 

“ Indeed,” continued the colonel, “ if ten men, who each had a 
dog shut up at home, were to walk about in various directions 
over a wide field, and afterward go off in different ways, the dogs, 
when let out, would each follow his own master’s track all over 
the field, and so away wherever his master went, just as if the 
different tracks were so many different colored threads lying on 
the ground.” 

“ That is very curious,” said Bell. 

“ Yes,” said the colonel ; “ and this power to smell the traces 
of man interferes very much with the various plans of hunters to 
entrap the animals. And yet sometimes, in cases where you 
would suppose it would interfere, it does not seem to have that 
effect. For instance, the condor, an immense species of vulture, 
which inhabits the peaks of the Andes, and lives on the dead bod- 


SYSTEM. 


61 


Catching the condor. It is better not to exhaust all pleasures at once. 

ies of animals, has a remarkably keen sense of smell. If an ani- 
mal falls down the rocks and is killed, the condor can scent the 
body a great many miles. And yet the natives sometimes catch 
the condor by lying down on the ground and covering themselves 
over with a raw-hide which they have just taken off from some 
animal. The condor comes and alights upon the hide, thinking 
that it is a dead body. The hunter then catches him by grasping 
his legs with the hide round them.” 

“I should be afraid to do it,” said Stanley. 

“ So should I,” said the colonel. 

The colonel then said to the children that he could not tell them 
any more at that time, and so they went away. 


CHAPTER YI. 

SYSTEM. 

The children would have doubtless liked very well to see all 
the pictures which Colonel Markham had drawn for Bell, in one 
evening, but the plan which their father adopted of showing them 
only one picture at a time was far better, for the whole amount 
of pleasure and instruction that was derived from them was thus 
greatly increased. It was on this principle that Colonel Markham 
usually acted in showing drawings or engravings to his children. 

You will observe, if you take notice of the fact, that when you 
have a large number of paintings or engravings to examine, for 
a time each new one seen attracts great attention and awakens 
great interest ; but as you go on looking at them in succession, 


62 


SYSTEM. 


Tfie limits of pleasures. The illustration of the sewing-girl’s picture. 

your interest in them gradually diminishes, you are satisfied with 
shorter and shorter periods of examination for each one, and at 
length, if the number is large, you pass over all the last of the 
series in a very rapid and cursory manner. The reason is that a 
person’s power of taking pleasure in looking at pictures is a very 
limited power. It is like a person’s power of taking pleasure in 
drinking water when he is thirsty. It is soon exhausted. No 
matter how much water he may have at hand, it is only one or 
two glasses that he can take any pleasure in drinking. So no 
matter how many paintings or engravings a person may have, his 
power of taking pleasure in looking at them will be exhausted 
with a comparatively small number ; and though there may remain 
a sort of curiosity to see what the rest may be, which may lead 
him to turn them all over, he makes only a rapid survey of them, 
and receives very little pleasure. 

It results from this, that the pleasure which the possession of 
drawings and paintings gives us does not depend much upon the 
number of them. A poor sewing-girl, who has only one picture 
in the world, and has hung that, in a pretty frame that she has 
bought for it, opposite to the place where she sits to sew in her 
little room, may feel a much stronger sensation of pleasure in look- 
ing at it than the wealthy and fashionable lady whose immense 
parlors have their walls covered with the most costly works ot 
art. The sewing-girl’s picture is like a little water to a person 
who is very thirsty. It gives him intense delight to drink it. 
Those of the fashionable lady are like a great pitcher full of water 
to one who has already had as much as he can drink. 


SYSTEM. 


63 


Bell’s system in drawing. Stanley’s mode. 

So Colonel Markham knew very well that the pleasure which 
the children would take in looking at his drawings depended less 
on the drawings themselves than on the state of the children’s ap- 
petite for them. He accordingly always took good care to keep 
their appetites good. 

It was Bell’s custom to copy all the pictures as her father 
showed and explained them. She copied them with great care, 
and so successful was she in the work that it was rather difficult 
to distinguish the copies from the originals. Stanley made some 
attempts to copy them, but he did not succeed very well, not from 
any deficiency of talent, but for want of system and perseverance. 

Bell would always form a definite plan. She never took out 
her work without a distinct idea of what she was going to do at 
that sitting, and then she would not leave her work till she had 
accomplished what she had proposed. She would examine the 
drawing carefully, too, in all its parts, before she commenced her 
work upon it, and would consider what the different portions of 
the work would be, and the order in which she was to perform 
them, and she would make a general estimate of the time which 
each portion would require. Thus she would have her work all 
laid out, as it were, before she began it, and when she had once be- 
gun she would proceed regularly, according to the plan that she 
had formed, to the end. 

Stanley’s mode of proceeding, on the other hand, was the reverse 
of all this. He would make no estimates, and would form no 
plans, but would begin at any time when a momentary caprice 
seized him, and then leave off in the same manner at any moment 


64 


SYSTEM. 


The stormy day. Stanley stays at home. The picture of the bear. 

when he became a little tired or a little discouraged, or when any 
new object of interest presented itself to attract his attention. 
He very often became discouraged with his work and abandoned 
it unfinished. The reason for this was that he was very apt to 
undertake more than he could well perform. 

The morning after Colonel Markham had told the children 
about the bear, there came on a very heavy rain. The water fell 
in torrents while the family were at breakfast. The colonel 
looked at the barometer which hung in his study, and also at the 
vane to ascertain the direction of the wind. The wind was east 
and the barometer was low — both signs that the rain would prob- 
ably continue. So it was decided that Stanley should not go to 
school that day. He concluded that he would spend part of the 
morning in drawing with Bell, and he looked over the drawings 
which his father had already given Bell, in order to choose one 
of them to copy. 

When he came to the picture of the log where the spring-gun 
had been set to shoot the bear, he said, 

“I wonder why father did not draw the bear on it, and the 
spring-gun set to shoot him.” 

So he took the picture into the little shop where his father was 
at work upon some of his instruments, to ask him the question. 
The colonel said that the reason why he did not draw the bear 
was because he made that sketch before he knew any thing about 
the bear, and he thought he would not draw it over again. 

“ Could not you have put the bear in afterward ?” asked 
Stanley. 


SYSTEM. 


65 


A boy needs head as well as hands to draw well. 

“No,” said liis father. “If you wish to put figures in a pic- 
ture, you must sketch the outlines of them at the same time that 
you sketch the general outlines of the piece.” 

“ Well, father,” said Stanley, “ I will tell you what I mean to 
do. I mean to copy this piece, and have the bear in it tumbling 
off the log. I’ll draw the gun, too, tied against the tree some- 
where in the background. Do you think I can ?” 

“No,” said his father, “ I don’t think you can, or at least I do 
not think you will.” 

“ Why not ?” asked Stanley. 

“You have not got head enough,” said the colonel. 

“Oh, father!” said Stanley. “I don’t draw with my head. 
I draw with my hands.” 

“You will find it will require some head to do that,” said the 
colonel. “Bell might succeed, perhaps, but I do not think that 
you will.” 

“ Oh, father ! ” said Stanley. “ Why can not I as well as Bell ?” 

“ Because she has more patience and more calculation. She 
thinks before she acts, and plans her work before she does it. 
You are very apt to act first and think afterward. However, you 
might both try and see what you can do.” 

“Do you think it would be a good plan ?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes,” said his father, “I think it would.” 

So Stanley went back and told Bell that their father said he 
thought it would be a good plan for them both to copy the picture 
of the log lying across the stream, and to put the bear in it, either 
walking across the log or tumbling into the water. 


66 


SYSTEM. 


Misrepresentation. Stanley and Bell drawing. Stanley’s picture. 

It was not quite right for Stanley to say this, for it conveyed 
the impression that his father had thought of this plan, and had 
recommended it of his own accord ; whereas he had only assented 
to Stanley’s recommendation of it, which was a very different 
thing. Children very often make this mistake in quoting the 
opinions or recommendations of their parents ; and I have known 
many grown persons, who ought to be more careful, fall into the 
same error. They draw from the person they are talking with 
an expression of concurrence with something which they say them- 
selves, and then represent it as an independent opinion expressed 
by the person whom they quote, when very probably he consider- 
ed it as only a polite assent to a passing remark, made without 
thought or reflection. 

So Stanley and Bell both undertook to copy the drawing and 
put in the bear, but they went to work in very different ways, 
and met with very different success. Stanley went on copying 
and drawing just as his father had made it, until he was tired of 
that part of the work, and then he began to draw the bear. He 
encountered two very serious difficulties. In the first place, he 
attempted to draw the bear from memory merely, and without 
any model before him to guide him as to its form, and so the 
figure looked very little more like a bear than it did like any 
other animal; and, secondly, as he did not begin to draw the 
outline of the bear until after he had nearly finished the back- 
ground of the picture, the lines crossed and interfered with each 
other. To remedy the evils which he thus fell into, Stanley rub- 
bed out his lines again and again, and tried to mend his work. 


SYSTEM. 


67 


A poor workman complains of his tools. Bell looking for a model. 

But he only made a blur upon the paper, and spoiled the surface 
of it by continual rubbing, and soon gave up the attempt, in de- 
spair. 

“ I can not do it,” said he to Bell. “ I don’t think my paper 
is good — or else the pencil. It will not rub out well. Let me 
see yours.” 

So saying, Stanley began to look over Bell’s work to see what 
progress she was making. 

Bell had made a very faint outline of her father’s drawing, and 
at the time when Stanley appealed to her, she was turning over 
the leaves of Dorie’s picture-book to find the picture of a bear, in 
order to copy the form of the animal correctly. Dorie had brought 
her the picture-book, and was now playing with her chain in the 
corner of the room. 

“Dorie,” said Bell, “is there not a picture of a bear in your 
picture-book ?” 

“Yes,” said Dorie, “there are two. One is standing up on 
his hind legs, and the other is walking along.” 

“ Whereabouts are they ?” asked Bell. 

“ They are pretty close to the end of the book,” said Dorie. 

Bell looked over all the leaves that were near the end of the 
book, but she could not find any picture of a bear. At length she 
called Dorie to come to the table and find it for her. 

Dorie came, and when she saw that Bell was turning over the 
leaves that were toward the close of the book, she exclaimed, 

“ Oh, Bell, you are not looking in the right place. I did not 
mean the last end of the book ; I meant the first end.” 


68 


SYSTEM. 


Bell’s careful way. Self-confidence is not all that is requisite. 

“We commonly call that the beginning,” said Bell. 

“Well, then, it is pretty close to the beginning that you must 
look,” said Dorie. 

Following this new direction, Bell soon found the picture of the 
bear. The one that was walking along was just what she re- 
quired for a model. She took a spare piece of paper, and made 
two or three copies of it in outline, for practice, before she at- 
tempted to draw it in her picture. When at length she found 
that she had become so far acquainted with the form of the ani- 
mal that she could draw the outline of it pretty well, she sketched 
it lightly, in its place on the log, in her drawing. 

“ There !” said she ; “ now that I have finished the outline of 
the bear, and know exactly what space he will cover, I can finish 
the background of the picture without interfering with him, and 
so have nothing to rub out.” 

“I wish I had done so,” said Stanley. “I mean to try again 
by-and-by. And I mean to draw the gun too, going off, and the 
bear tumbling into the water.” 

“ It will be very difficult to draw all that,” said Bell. 

“Oh no,” said Stanley, “it will not be difficult at all. I can 
do it very easily now I know how to manage it.” 

Stanley always evinced a great deal of courage and self-confi- 
dence in respect to any undertakings that might be proposed. 
But, unfortunately for him, in all undertakings in which any seri- 
ous difficulties are involved, something more than courage and 
self-confidence at the beginning is required to insure success. 

Stanley began his second drawing about the middle of the fore- 


SYSTEM. 


69 


Bell succeeds in her copy. Stanley fails in his. 

noon, but he did not pro- 
ceed with it even as far as 
he had gone with the first. 
Bell, on the other hand, went 
on steadily with her draw- 
ing, and before noon she had 
made a very pretty copy of 
her father’s drawing, with 
the bear standing on the 
log, as you see represented 
in the adjoining engraving. 
At dinner, Colonel Mark- 
ham asked the children how they had succeeded with their work. 

“ Pretty well,” said Stanley ; “ that is, I began pretty well, but 
I spoiled it, and I am going to try again some day.” 

“Did you finish yours, Bell?” asked the colonel. 

“Yes, sir,” said Bell: “ I copied the bear from Dorie’s picture- 
book.” 

After dinner, Colonel Markham wished to see Bell’s drawing, 
and she brought it accordingly. Her father and mother were both 
much pleased with it. The conversation which it elicited awak- 
ened a new desire to draw in Stanley’s mind, and he asked his 
father if he would not show them another picture from his portfo- 
lio then. “ Because,” said he, “it is such a rainy day, and Bell 
has copied all that you have already shown us.” 

Bell joined Stanley earnestly in this request, and at first Col- 
onel Markham felt inclined to accede to it, but on farther ~ reflee- 



70 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


The oolonel proposes to show the children some military - pictures. 

tion he thought that it was best that he should not exhaust his 
stock of drawings too soon ; so he said that he would show them 
some engravings from a book, and explain the meaning of them. 
The children said that this would do just as well. 

“I will show you some military pictures,” said the colonel. 

4 4 That is just exactly what I should like,” said Stanley. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE MILITARY PICTURES. 

The colonel directed the children to take their seats in the re- 
cess of the window, near their mother’s work-table, while he went 
to the study to bring the book that contained the pictures which 
he was intending to show them. The children all took their places 
accordingly, and Mrs. Markham sat down on the corner of a sofa 
near, in order that she might see the pictures and hear the expla- 
nations too. 

44 1 am going,” said he, 44 to show you some pictures of cannons, 
and I am going to give you some explanations in respect to the 
different kinds of cannons and their different uses, so that, in read- 
ing the accounts of battles and sieges in history, you can under- 
stand them better.” 

So saying, he went away into the study to get the book. 

Both Bell and Stanley were much pleased to hear that their 
father was going to show them pictures of cannons, though they 
were pleased for very different reasons. Stanley liked guns and 
cannons for their owiT sake. He was always greatly excited when 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


71 


Comparative velocity of light and of sound. 


a train of artillery went by, and lie was extremely pleased when 
he had an opportunity to take a position on some commanding 
elevation at a safe distance, and watch the firing. 

It is not surprising that he felt this interest in the firing of ar- 
tillery, for gunpowder is, indeed, a wonderful agent, and the dis'^- 
charge of a field-piece, or any other piece of heavy ordnance, is an 
astonishing phenomenon, and boys, who are always interested in 
all extraordinary phenomena, may well be greatly excited at this. 

One thing that interested him very much in witnessing these 
firings was to observe the interval of time that elapsed between 
the flash and the sound, which interval was always greater or less 
according to the distance of the gun from the place where Stanley 
stood. Light moves almost instantaneously through the air, while 
sound goes quite slowly in comparison. The flash is thus seen 
almost at the moment when the gun is fired, while the sound re- 
quires about five seconds for every mile of distance. By counting 
the seconds, therefore, intervening between the flash and the sound, 
Stanley could estimate pretty correctly the distance of the gun. 

Bell’s interest in the subject was of a very different kind. She 
was afraid of cannons themselves, though she liked to read about 
them, and she wished very much to understand what she read. 
She never liked to see a train of artillery passing by, or to hear 
any firing, however distant ; but to look at pictures qf guns, and 
hear her father’s explanations of them, was a very different thing. 

Colonel Markham soon returned with the book, and took his 
seat with it before the children. He opened it, and showed them 
the picture of a company of men and horses drawing a cannon 


72 


THE MILITARY PICTURES 





THE FIELD-PIECE 




THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


73 


Some account of the construction of field-pieces. 


over very rough and stony ground. The carriage was turned and 
twisted on account of the inequalities of the ground, and the horses 
were struggling violently to get it forward. The men looked ex- 
cited too, and an officer was coming by, riding on a prancing horse, 
holding a drawn sword in his hand, and giving the commands. 

“Cannon that are intended to be used in the field, ” said the 
colonel, “must be made as light as possible, and so they are 
made of brass. They are called field-pieces. They are mounted 
on carriages of very peculiar construction. The carriages must 
be as light as possible too, and yet they must be very strong, for 
the cannon which they bear make a very heavy load for them.” 

“Oh, father,” said Dorie, “you said that cannons were light.” 

“ I said as light as possible,” replied the colonel. “ They are 
only light comparatively speaking — that is, light compared with 
other cannon, such as are used on board ships of war, or on the 
walls of fortresses. They are still, in reality, very heavy, for they 
are made of brass, and they must be quite thick and strong, or 
else they would burst. So, you see, a field-piece is quite heavy 
when compared to any ordinary load which a common cart, or 
wagon, or pleasure-carriage has to bear, though it is light com- 
pared to the great cast-iron guns of a fortress or of a ship of war. 

“ Brass is commonly used for field-pieces because it is tougher 
and stronger than cast iron, and thus a gun may be made lighter 
of it. But then it is expensive, as brass costs more than iron. 

“ Field-pieces are named according to the weight of the ball 
that they throw. If one is made so large that its ball weighs six- 
teen pounds, then the gun is called a sixteen-pounder. If the 


74 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


It takes a great many men to work a field-piece. 

ball weighs twenty-four pounds, then it is called a twenty-four- 
pounder, and so on. 

“It takes a great many men to work a field -piece,” continued 
the colonel. 

“ How many ?” asked Bell. 

“Hot less than sixteen, usually,” said the colonel. “Every 
one has a different duty to perform. One has to spotige out the 
inside of the gun after it has been fired, in order to wipe out all 
the dampness and smoke left by the burning of the powder ; for, 
unless the inside of the bore of the gun is perfectly clean, the ball 
will not slide out quick and easily. Besides, sometimes a spark 
is left in the gun, and then, if they put in another charge of pow- 
der before it is wiped out, the powder goes off before they are 
ready for it. When the first man has wiped the gun out, another 
stands all ready to put in a fresh charge.” 

“ Why could not the same man do that ?” asked Bell. 

“ It would take too much time,” said the colonel. “ While he 
was putting down his swab, and getting the charge of powder to 
put in, a minute would elapse perhaps, and so with all the other 
operations. It is better, therefore, to have a man for each distinct 
operation, and thus, while one man is doing his work, the next is 
getting ready to do his, and thus every thing goes on in the most 
rapid manner possible. One swabs out the gun. The instant he 
withdraws the swab, another stands ready to put in the charge 
of powder. The instant that the powder is in, another man is 
ready with the ramrod to ram it down, and so on with every sep- 
arate part of the operation. The work of loading and firing a 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


75 


Use of field-pieces. The children look at the picture again. 

field-piece is, in fact, quite a complicated work. There are a great 
many separate things to be done.” 

“I should not think that there would be as many as sixteen 
separate things,” said Stanley. 

“There are more than one would suppose,” said the colonel, 
“ including those connected with the care of the gun, and of the 
carriage, and of the horses ; besides, they must have strength 
enough in the party to move and place the gun when the horses 
are detached from it. 

“There is a reason,” continued the colonel, “why field-pieces 
do not need to be so heavy and large as other cannon, and that is, 
that they are only intended usually to fire upon men , while other 
guns, such as are used in batteries and on board ships of war, are 
intended to fire against walls of masonry or great embankments 
of earth, and so they require much larger and heavier balls. Field- 
pieces are used only or chiefly to drive back columns of men that 
are advancing to battle. For this purpose they get up, if possi- 
ble, to the top of some hill or rising ground, where they can see 
the army of the enemy coming, and then, as soon as they come 
near enough for the balls to reach them, they begin to fire. They 
are trying to get the field-piece up to the top of such a hill in the 
picture.” 

Here the colonel opened the book and let the children look at 
the picture again. 

“ I suppose that the enemy are coming over beyond the hill,” 
said he; “the air is so full of smoke and dust that we can not 
see them. The men are hurrying on to get their guns in position. 


76 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


The smoke of the battle. 


Graph and canister shot. 


Shells. 


See how wild and excited they look. They are urging the horses 
forward, and the horses are struggling to get over the broken 
ground. The officer is calling out to them to press on. When 
they get to the top of the hill, they will stop and turn the cannon 
round, so as to point it toward the enemy. As soon as they im- 
agine that the enemy are near enough, they will begin to fire.” 

“Can’t they tell certainly when they are near enough?” asked 
Stanley. 

“ No, ’’said his father, “ not very well, on account of the smoke. 
They can only see a great smoke coming up every where all over 
the plain, and hear the sound of cannons and guns. The can- 
nons make a heavy booming sound, and the musketry a sharp con- 
tinuous rattling. They have to judge by the sound which way 
to point their guns and when to tire. If the enemy are a great 
way off, they fire solid balls at them, for solid balls will go a great 
way ; but if they are near, they fire grape or canister shot. 

“ Grape and canister shot consists of a mass of small balls put 
up together in canvas bags or tin canisters. The bags or the 
canisters are just big enough to go in at the mouth of the gun. 
When they are fired, the bags or the canisters burst, and the balls 
scatter in every direction, killing an immense number of men.” 

“ It must be very dreadful work,” said Bell. 

“ It is very dreadful work indeed,” replied the colonel ; “ most 
sincerely do I hope that I shall never have any of it to do. 

“And now,” he continued, “we will look at the next picture.” 
So saying, he turned over a few leaves in his book, and came to 
a picture of men firing what are called shells from mortars. 


MORTARS 


THE MILITARY PICTURES, 


77 




Throwing shells from a mortar. 



78 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


Structure of a shell. Explosion of it. The fuse. 

“Shells,” said the colonel, “are large iron balls made hollow 
and filled with gunpowder. They are fired up in the air from a 
kind of cannon called a mortar. This kind of cannon is short and 
very thick, as you see in the picture.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “it looks like a mortar.” 

“It does,” rejoined the colonel. “It is mounted on a very 
heavy wooden frame, which is called the bed. The men are just 
going to put in another shell. You see the shell is a great deal 
bigger than one of the men’s heads. It is filled with gunpowder. 
The shell, when it is fired, will go up very high into the air, and 
at length fall down upon the place where they wish it to go, and 
there it will burst. As it bursts it will tear up the ground or the 
houses, and kill the men that may chance to be near.” 

“ But how does the fire get into it,” asked Stanley, “ to set 
the gunpowder on fire ?” 

“ There is a fuse,” said his father. “ There is a hole cast in 
the side of the shell, and when the shell is charged a fuse is put 
through this hole. One end of the fuse is in the gunpowder, and 
the other comes to the outside of the shell, and when the shell is 
fired from the mortar, the outer end of the fuse is set on fire by 
the discharge. The fuse keeps burning all the time while the 
shell is flying through the air, and when at length it comes to the 
ground, or soon after, the fuse burns in to the gunpowder, and then 
the shell explodes. 

“It is very curious,” continued the colonel, “ that they can 
calculate the length of the fuse very exactly, so as to have the 
shell explode almost at the instant that it touches the ground. 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


79 


Shells ascend very high into the air. Destructive effects produced by them. 

When the shells are charged, they are often marked with white 
characters on the iron, to show how long the fuse of each is in- 
tended to burn.” 

“ I should think that the wind would blow the fuse out,” said 
Bell, “ when it is flying through the air.” 

“No,” replied the colonel, “it does not. The fuse is made of 
a very combustible preparation like gunpowder, which burns very 
fiercely, though the fire advances slowly. We can see the fuse 
burning while the shell is flying through the air. It makes a fiery 
tail to it, like the tail of a rocket. In the night, when an army of 
besiegers are shelling a fortress or a town, and a great many shells 
are flying through the air at the same time, the spectacle is some- 
times very grand. 

“ Shells are thrown very high into the air. The reason of this 
is, in order that they may bury themselves in the ground where 
they fall, and so do the more mischief when they explode. They 
often kill a great many men, though that is not usually the chief 
intention in throwing them. They are thrown chiefly for the pur- 
pose of blowing up houses, or battering down walls, or tearing em- 
bankments to pieces. They are more effectual for such purposes 
than solid shot. 

“For instance,” continued the colonel, “look at the picture 
again. It is the picture of a fortress. You can see the walls of 
the fortress on the left. These mortars are on the outside of the 
walls, in a battery which has been constructed there. Such works 
outside the walls of a place are called the advanced works. The 
mortars are placed on a level area, which is called the platform of 


80 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


Reconnoitering the enemy. Commencement of a siege. The trenches. 


the battery. Along on the outside of the platform there is an em- 
bankment of earth, to defend the men who are serving the mortars 
from the shots of the enemy. Do you see the embankment ?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Stanley, pointing, “there it is. There is a 
man standing up on a ladder to look over.” 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “he is looking through a spy-glass to 
see where the enemy are and what they are doing.” 

“ Is the enemy so far off,” said Bell, “that he has to look at 
them with a spy-glass ?” 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “very often, especially at the com- 
mencement of a siege. Mortars will throw shells two or three 
miles ; consequently, in attacking a place, the besiegers have to 
begin back very far.” 

“ How do they begin ?” asked Stanley. “ What do they do 
first ?” 

“ They come up first as near as they dare, so as to be out of 
the reach of the shot and shells from the advanced works of the 
fortress, and encamp there. Then, in the night, they send a body 
of several thousand men a quarter of a mile or half a mile nearer, 
to open a trench, as they call it ; that is, the men dig a long trench 
in the ground, wide but not very deep, and throw the earth that 
they get out of it so as to make a very high embankment along 
the side of the trench that is toward the fortress. In the morning 
the people in the fortress see the embankment, and begin to fire, 
but they can not do much mischief to the men who have made it, 
because they are sheltered by it. During the day, the men con- 
tinue to make the embankment thicker and higher by keeping be- 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


81 


Comparative effects produced by shot and shells. 


liind it and throwing the earth over. The people in the fortress 
do all they can to hinder the work by throwing shells at the place. 
Solid shot would do very little harm ; for either they would pass 
over the embankment, and, of course, over the heads of the people 
behind it, or, if they struck the embankment, they would simply 
bury themselves in the earth. 

“ Shells, however, work very differently. Coming down, as 
they do, from a great height in the air, it may happen that they 
will fall into the trench, and, bursting there, kill the men ; or if 
they fall into the embankment and burst there, they tear a part 
of it to pieces, and so make more work for the men behind it to 
repair the damage. That, I suppose, is what they are doing in 
the picture. The besiegers are yet at a great distance, as is indi- 
cated by the officer observing them with a spy-glass. They have 
probably just commenced opening the trenches, or at least have 
not advanced far with them, and the garrison of the fortress are 
shelling them from the advanced works in order to impede their 
operations as much as possible.” 

“I should think,” said Bell, “that the shells would tear their 
works all to pieces.” 

“So should I,” said Stanley. “I should think it would be 
perfectly impossible for them to do any thing at all.” 

“ It would,” said the colonel, “ if the shells could be directed so 
that they could generally hit where they are aimed. But very 
few of them strike either in the trenches or on the embankments 
of the besiegers. You must recollect that the distance may be 
perhaps a mile or more, and to throw shells up into the air by 


82 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


Escaping from a shell. Parapet. A bold fellow. 

means of a mortar, so that they shall come down exactly upon 
the place you want to hit, a mile or more away, must be a very 
difficult operation. It is only a very small portion of the number 
thrown that usually do any damage. The rest strike in the open 
field or on the rocks, and explode without doing any harm. If 
they strike upon the soft ground, they sink into it several feet, 
and when they blow up they make a large hole ten or twelve feet 
in diameter. But this does no harm if there are no persons near. 

“ Sometimes,” continued the colonel, “ when a shell falls into 
the trenches it does no harm, for the men, seeing it fall, run from 
it in all directions. The fuse, burning fiercely with a loud, hissing 
noise, gives them a very effectual warning. Oftentimes they en- 
tirely escape in this way. Instances have been known of soldiers 
taking up the shell while the fuse was burning, and throwing it 
over the parapet.” 

“ What is the parapet ?” asked Bell. 

“ The top of the embankment,” said the colonel. “A parapet 
is part of a wall or of a redoubt that shelters the men when they 
are standing behind it to fire upon the enemy. I read an account 
once of a party of soldiers who were seated in the trenches eating 
their dinner, when a shell struck the embankment above their 
heads and rolled down among them, the fuse blazing and hissing 
all the time with great fury. One of the soldiers seized it, and 
scrambled up the bank with it till he got near enough to the top 
to throw it over. It rolled down on the outside, and a moment 
afterward burst with a terrific explosion.” 

“ He was a brave fellow,” said Stanley. 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


83 

The besiegers repair their works in the night. 

“He was a reckless fellow,” said the colonel. “The wisest 
course would have been to run with the rest. However, I will go 
on with my account of how the besiegers proceed in taking a for- 
tress. 

“ Whatever damage the besieged do to their embankment by 
shelling it during the day, they repair in the night, and they also 
extend the embankment each way, and open new ones in new 
places. The garrison of the fortress do not know where they are 
at work, and so can not interfere with them. They can only, in 
the morning, see what they have done. In this way the besiegers 
gradually advance toward the fortress, bringing the intrenchment 
nearer and nearer, in zigzag lines, until, at last, when they think 
they are near enough, they level off a platform behind a portion 
of the embankment, and bring up some heavy guns or mortars, and 
establish them there, so as to cannonade or shell the fortress in 
their turn. 

“ While one portion of the army have, been approaching the for- 
tress in this way in one part, another portion has usually approach- 
ed it in another part, and thus they often open several batteries at 
a time against the fortress. Sometimes they throw shot from these 
batteries, and sometimes shells. What they wish to do is to tear 
the embankments of the advanced works to pieces, and batter down 
the walls, and dismount the guns. If a shot passes in through an 
embrasure and strikes a gun, it usually knocks it over, and then 
the men can not use it any more.” 

“ Can’t they set it up again ?” asked Stanley. 

“ Not very well,” said the colonel. “ Often the gun itself is 


84 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


The gun-carriages. Embrasures. The casemated battery. 

damaged, and, at any rate, the carriage is usually broken to pieces, 
so that the gun can not be used again till the men have time to 
mount it on a new carriage. They can do this sometimes the 
next night, if they have their carriage-frames ready.” 

“And what do they do if they have no frames ready?” asked 
Stanley. 

“Then,” replied the colonel, “they can not do any thing, and 
that gun is silenced. The besiegers go on firing until they have 
silenced as many of the guns of the fortress as they can. Some 
times they silence them very fast if the embrasures are not guarded.” 

“ What are the embrasures ?” asked Bell. 

“ They are the openings in a wall, or in an embankment, to fire 
through. Sometimes the embrasures are walled up, with only a 
small opening left for the mouth of the gun. When a battery has 
its embrasures guarded in this way, it is said to be casemated. 
Casemated batteries are very strong. I will show you a picture 
of one.” 

So saying, the colonel turned over the leaves of the book, and 
presently he found the picture of the casemated battery. You 
will see the picture on the opposite page. It represents a party 
of men firing a gun from a casemated battery. 

In the centre of the picture, a little to the right, stands the gun. 
It rests on a massive carriage. The muzzle of it is pointed toward 
an opening in the wall. The wall is very thick, and is formed of 
very massive blocks of stone, so as to resist the concussions of the 
shot and shell striking upon the outside of it. Over it is a vault- 
ed roof, made very thick and strong, to protect the place from shells 


THE CASEMATE!) BATTERY. 


THE MILITARY PICTURES, 


85 


Picture of the battery. 



86 


THE MILITARY PICTURES. 


Effect of the discharge on the gun itself. The recoil. 

falling from above. This roof is supported by arches, the lower 
sides of which are seen in the engraving. 

“What a clumsy gun-carriage!” said Stanley. 

“They are obliged to make gun-carriages very massive,” said 
the colonel. 

“Why?” asked Stanley. “ So as to have them strong?” 

“ They must be very strong,” said the colonel, “ but that is not 
enough ; they must be heavy too, so as to resist the recoil. When 
a ball is thrown from a gun by the force of the powder, the gun is 
thrown back with just the same force as that by which the ball 
is thrown forward. In other words, the explosion of the gunpow- 
der takes effect both ways, and tends to throw the gun one way 
and the ball the other.” 

“ Yes,” said Stanley, “ we call it the kicking of the gun.” 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “and men call it the recoil. Now, 
the more massive and heavy the gun is, the less the recoil will be, 
and the more completely will the explosive force expend itself on 
the ball.” 

“ One of the men is just touching off the gun,” said Stanley, 
looking at the picture. 

“No,” said the colonel. “ He is- only stopping the touch-hole 
while they are ramming down the charge. Do you see the man 
ramming down the charge ? You can see the end of the ramrod 
projecting from the mouth of the gun. They always stop the 
touch-hole when they are charging the gun, as an additional se- 
curity against an accidental discharge. There might be a dormant 
spark inside the touch-hole, which the current of air produced by 


THE LAKE PICTURES. 


87 


Operation ofloading. The children wish to see more pictures. 

ramming home the charge might fan up so as to explode the 
charge while the man is ramming it down. If this were to hap- 
pen the man’s arms would be blown off. 

64 As soon as the powder is rammed down, the ball will be put 
in. There is a man bringing the ball. 

44 The end of the gun-carriage that is toward us is mounted on 
trucks. We can see one of the trucks. These trucks traverse 
on iron rails laid on the floor. By moving the breech of the gun 
round, this way or that, along these rails, the muzzle may be point' 
ed in any direction.” 

This was all that the colonel explained to the children about 
the military pictures. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE LAKE PICTURES. 

After tea, on the evening of the day when Colonel Markham 
showed The children the military pictures, Bell called Stanley at 
the usual time to go into the study with her, to ask her father to 
show them another of his drawings. 

“Haven’t I shown you pictures enough for to-day?” said the 
colonel. 

44 Ho, sir,” said Stanley, “not half enough.” 

44 Well,” said the colonel, 44 1 will show you one, but I can not 
spend much time in explaining it to you this evening, because I 
spent so much time with you at noon ; so I will look out a pic- 
ture that does not require much explanation.” 


88 


the lake pictures, 



SHORES OF THE LAKE. 


THE LAKE PICTURES. 


89 


The children describe the picture. The buildings. 

So the colonel took out his portfolio, and after turning over the 
pictures that it contained a few minutes, he finally selected one, 
and laid it down upon the table where the children could see it. 

“ Look at it,” said he, “ and tell me what you observe.” 

“I see an Indian,” said Stanley, “with a bow and arrow, 
standing by the water.” 

“ He is standing on the shore of a beautiful lake,” said Bell. 

“What a noble bow!” exclaimed Stanley. “It reaches up 
higher than the Indian’s head.” 

On the opposite page you see the picture. 

“What a beautiful picture!” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “ I thought it was a very pretty view, 
and so I made a drawing of it for you. It is a view on the shores 
of Lake Superior. Lake Superior is very large. The water, you 
see, extends to the horizon, as if you were looking off upon the sea. 

“Do you see any buildings?” asked the colonel. 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “there are buildings on both sides — on 
the right and on the left.” 

“Describe them to me,” said the colonel. “First you, Stan- 
ley, may describe the buildings on the right.” 

“ There are two of them,” said Stanley, “ and the largest one 
has got a cupola on the top of it. Perhaps it is an academy, or 
else it is a church.” 

“No,” said the colonel, “it is a light-house. What you call 
the cupola is the lantern where the lights are contained. The 
light-house is to light the vessels in the night when coming into 
the harbor. Do you see any vessels on the lake ?” 


90 


THE LAKE PICTUKES. 


Dorie describes some of the buildings. The Falls of Niagara. 

“ Yes,” said Stanley, “ I see two. Three ! I see three !” 

“Now, Dorie,” said the colonel, “you may describe the build- 
ings that you see on the left.” 

“Well,” said Dorie, “let me see. There are three of them; 
and there is a sheet hanging out on a clothes-line to dry ; and one' 
of the houses has got a stove-pipe for the chimney.” 

“Those houses are made of bark,” said the colonel. “So is 
the boat that is lying down upon the ground. The boat is an In- 
dian canoe. The Indians make a frame of wood, and then cover 
it with sheets of birch bark. Do you see any thing else ?” 

“Yes,” said Dorie, “ I see two other Indians near the water.” 

“There are a great many large lakes like this in the West,” 
said the colonel, “ with narrow passages leading from one to the 
other, so that you can sail through them all in the same steam- 
boat — all except one, Lake Ontario. You can not sail into that.” 

“Why not?” asked Stanley. 

“ Because,” replied the colonel, “it lies several hundred feet 
lower than the rest of the lakes, and the water from all the other 
lakes has to fall down over a rocky precipice nearly two hundred 
feet high to get to the level of it.” 

“What a mighty waterfall that must be!” said Stanley. 

“ Yes,” rejoined the colonel; “it is Niagara.” 

“Is that what makes the Falls of Niagara?” asked Bell. 

“ Yes,” said her father. “ All the great lakes but one are near- 
ly on the same level, and that level is an elevated plain. The 
one lake lies several hundred feet below, and the water flowing 
out from all the other lakes falls down to it. Ontario is the low 


THE LAKE PICTURES. 


91 


Picture of the Straits of Mackinaw. 


Indian name. 


lake, and Erie is the last of the high lakes ; so that the Falls of 
Niagara come between Erie and Ontario. Of course, no vessels 
can pass between those two lakes. The great lake navigation be- 
gins at Erie. 

“ In the straits that connect all the other great lakes the water 
is nearly level. I have got a sketch of one of them.” 

So Colonel Markham opened his portfolio again, and produced 
a sketch, long and narrow. This is it. 



STRAITS OF MACKINAW. 


“ It represents a strait leading from one of the great lakes to 
another. There is an island in the middle of it. We see a steam- 
boat on one side of the island, and a sail vessel on the other.” 

The children asked their father what strait this was, or, in oth- 
er words, w r hat the two lakes were that it connected; but Col- 
onel Markham said he would rather they would look upon their 
maps and find out themselves. 

“I will only tell you that the name of it is the Straits of Mack- 
inaw. It is spelled sometimes Michilimakinak — that being the 
old Indian name — though, in speaking the word, it is pronounced 
Mackinaw. Look on your maps some time this evening, and see 
if you can find it, and in the morning tell me where it is.” 


92 


WATER. 


Water. Great want sometimes experienced. Modes of procuring it. 


CHAPTER IX. 

WATER. 

One of the greatest and most imperious of the wants of the 
traveler, in journeying over an uninhabited country, is a supply of 
water. In some countries streams and springs are very numer- 
ous, and the expedition is meeting with supplies every few hours. 
At other times the region consists of extensive plains, where a par- 
ty might continue their journey many days without coming to any. 

In such cases, old and experienced hunters have many curious 
ways of discovering and procuring water. If they are near mount- 
ains, they go to them. It usually rains more on the tops of mount- 
ains than on the plains below, and then, besides, the water stands 
there longer after the rain than on the plain ; for the cavities in 
the rocks hold it, while on the plains it soaks into the ground. 

If there are no mountains near, the hunters observe the flight 
of birds through the air, or the tracks of animals on the ground, 
and by following them they are often conducted to water ; for all 
these animals must drink, and they know where the streams or 
springs of water are to be found. 

Sometimes the paths which the hunters thus follow lead them 
to the bed of a brook which contained water once, but is now dry. 
In this case the men do not despair, but follow the brook up and 
down, in hopes to find water left in low places where deep pools 
were formed when the brook was running. We all observe that 


WATER. 


93 


Beds of brooks dried up. Bogs. Draining water from mud. 

when a brook dries up in the summer, there are places where the wa- 
ter remains long after it has disappeared from the general channel. 

If they do not find any standing water in these low places, they 
sometimes can find it by digging down a little way in the sand at 
the bottom of them. If they find that the sand and gravel be- 
come moist as they go down, they are encouraged. Sometimes, 
after they have dug a pretty deep hole without finding any water, 
if they leave it for a time the water oozes in. 

Of course, however, it is only very small supplies that can be 
obtained by such methods as these, but travelers in wild coun- 
tries are often reduced to such great straits that every drop is pre- 
cious. Sometimes they spread out a blanket, or even their clothes, 
to catch the dew, if there is any, and then wring the moisture out ; 
and sometimes, when they can find only mud in a swamp, but no 
water, they take up a quantity of the mud in a bag, and catch 
the drainings of it. Of course, they must be reduced to great 
distress to have occasion to resort to such contrivances as these. 

It is surprising how much planning and maneuvering is some- 
times necessary to provide for the want of water in traveling over 
countries where there are no sufficient natural supplies. The in- 
genuity and resources of the commander of the expedition are oft- 
en taxed more severely for this purpose than for almost any other. 

In one part of the American continent, between the Valley of 
the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains, there lies an immense 
desert of rocks and sands, which caravans of travelers often have 
to cross, and where they often suffer greatly from want of water. 
On the following page is a view of this, desert. It consists of an 


94 


WATER 




WATER. 


95 


Great desert. Description of it. Scanty herbage. 

immense plain of sand, with rocky islands rising here and there 
all over the surface of it. 

Companies of travelers often cross this desert on their way to 
California or to New Mexico. Sometimes they go in large cara- 
vans, with horses and cattle ; at other times the parties are small. 
They use mules a great deal, for mules are more hardy than horses, 
and bear the fatigue better, and can subsist on more scanty fare. 

In the picture we see a small detachment of men, sent off from 
one of these parties of travelers to explore the ground for water, 
and to find a suitable place to encamp. One man is leading his 
mule. Two others are in advance of him, looking for water. 

Large portions of this desert consist of dry and sandy plains, or 
of rocks heated by the sun, on which nothing but lichens can veg- 
etate. Here and there, however, in nooks and corners, a scanty 
growth of grass and herbage is found, where the mules can get just 
enough of food to give them strength to go on another day. Some 
vegetation of this kind appears in the foreground of the picture. 
Among the other plants, a sort of cactus, called the prickly pear, 
is often found growing among the rocks. You can see some of 
them in the engraving. The cactus is a plant that is fitted by 
nature to grow and thrive in the most dry and barren sands. It 
derives the greater portion of its nutriment from the air. 

The masses of rock which rise here and there above the plain 
are sometimes very striking and picturesque in their forms. On 
the next page is a representation of some of them. Colonel Mark- 
ham said that he thought it would be an excellent lesson in rocks 
for Bell and Stanley to draw. 


96 


WATER, 


View of the rocks in the great desert. 


“What are the men doing there?” asked Stanley. 

“ Those are two men,” said the colonel, “ that belong to a party 
of travelers. They have wandered away a short distance from 
the encampment in hopes to find some game.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I see one of them has got a gun.” 



ROCKS IN THE DESERT. 





WATER. 


97 


Account of the Indians. The Diggers. Part ) 7 of travelers. 

“ Both of them have guns,” said the colonel, “and one of them is 
pointing to something. He seems to see something at a distance.” 

“What do you suppose it is?” asked Dorie. 

“I don’t know,” said the colonel. 

“ I wish I knew’,” said Dorie. 

“It can’t he any thing to shoot,” said Stanley, “for if it were 
they would start up and go after it.” 

“No,” said the colonel, “ I don’t think he sees any game. Per- 
haps he is pointing out the way that they are going the next day, 
or he may he pointing to the camp, and saying it is time for them 
to go hack to it. It is possible that he may see some Indians.” 

“Are there any Indians in the desert?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “there is a very singular race of In- 
dians called Diggers. They are so called because they live on 
roots and animals that they dig out of the ground. They some- 
times attack travelers, and rob and murder them. I have got a 
picture of some of these Indians waylaying a party of travelers, 
and throwing down rocks upon them from the top of a precipice.” 

“ Let us see it, father,” said Stanley, eagerly. 

“Not to-day,” said his father. “ That will be for another time. 
To-day I wish to show you another picture of the desert, with a 
tent pitched on the sand.” 

So saying, the colonel drew out the picture represented on the 
following page. It gives a view of a small party of travelers, with 
their tent pitched for the night on the plain. Near the tent is 
one of the travelers leaning on his gun. The whole region around 
him is desolate and silent. He seems to despair of finding any 
19 Gr 


98 


WATER 



THE TENT IN THE DESERT. 





THE INDIANS. 


99 


Description of the picture. * 


Food for the mules. 


game. Beyond him, at a little distance, are two other travelers 
with a mule. They have unladen the mule, and put the packs in 
the tent, and now they are leading the mule away to see if they 
can find something for him to eat. 

In the foreground we see two other travelers, who have brought 
the other mule in this direction. Their object is the same — to 
find, if possible, some grass or herbage which will serve the mule 
for food. But they do not appear to succeed. The rocks look 
smooth and bare, and scarcely a blade of grass is any where to be 
seen. They have given up the search in despair. The mule 
stands still, quite discouraged, and the man who was driving him 
leans upon his back, and does not know what to do next. His 
companion is seated on a rock near by, with his gun lying idly 
across his lap. He seems to think there is no prospect or hope 
of finding any game. 

“ What do they do,” asked Stanley, “when they can not find 
any thing at all for the mules to eat ?” 

“ They usually bring some grain with them,” replied the colo- 
nel, “ and when they can’t find grass or herbage at all, they feed 
the mules a little with that, just so that they can go on ; but this 
does not happen very often.” 


CHAPTER X. 

THE INDIANS. 

In traveling through some parts of the Western country, it is 
necessary for the party to take many precautions against the In- 


100 


THE INDIANS. 


Severity of the whites toward the Indians. ' Anecdote. 

dians, who sometimes show a very hostile disposition. This is 
especially the case in traversing the great desert, which is inhab- 
ited by a race of savages as wretched and barbarous as any that 
are to be found on the face of the globe. 

The hostile spirit which the Western Indians so often show 
toward the whites is provoked, in a great degree, by the wrongs 
which they themselves suffer from the rudeness and violence of 
the travelers who intrude into their country, and treat the native 
inhabitants sometimes in a very despotic and tyrannical manner. 
Indeed, many whites seem to think that the true and proper pol- 
icy to pursue toward such barbarians is to overawe and intimidate 
them, and that there is no safety in any other course. Thus they 
lord it over the poor savages, whenever they encounter them, in 
the most imperious manner, and punish the slight offenses which 
any among them may commit with extreme severity. This pro- 
vokes a spirit of retaliation, and thus continual quarrels arise, 
which lead to much bloodshed, and sometimes to protracted wars. 

“ This is the way it works,” said the colonel, in explaining the 
subject to the children. “One day a company of travelers were 
encamped on the banks of a small and shallow stream. Some 
poor miserable Indians came to visit them at their camp. In the 
course of their visit, one of the Indians saw a tin cup, and con- 
ceived the design of stealing it. He had no pockets, for he had 
no clothes, or scarcely any, and thus he could not conceal the cup 
about his person. So, watching an opportunity when he thought 
no one would see, he tossed it across the stream into the tall grass 
which grew on the other side. He thought it would remain con- 


THE INDIANS. 


101 


The Indians exasperated by the cruelty of the whites. 

cealed there until the company of travelers had gone on, and that 
then he could go and find it.” 

“ That was an ingenious plan,” said Stanley. 

“ Yes,” said the colonel ; “ the Indians are often very cunning. 
But this plan did not succeed. The owner of the cup heard it fall, 
and looked up just in time to detect the Indian who had thrown it.” 

“And what did he do?” asked Stanley. 

“ He seized the Indian by the neck, and pushed him into the 
stream,” said the colonel, “ and then stood on the bank aiming 
his pistol at him with his right hand, while with the left he point- 
ed across the stream at the cup, and made gestures for the Indian 
to go and bring it back. 

“ The Indian was of course greatly frightened, thinking that he 
should be shot unless he went immediately and brought back the 
cup. So he waded across the stream and brought it back ; and 
when he gave it to the traveler, the traveler struck him on the head 
with the butt of his pistol, as a punishment for having stolen it.” 

“ I think he was a very cruel man,” said Bell. 

“I think so too,” said the colonel; “though perhaps he acted 
in this severe manner, not from cruelty so much as from an idea 
that it was necessary to be very decided in such cases, so as to 
overawe the Indians, and inspire them with a great dread of the 
vengeance of white men. But such things, instead of overawing 
them, only irritated and exasperated them, and inspired them not 
so much with a dread of our vengeance as with a determination to 
take vengeance themselves. 

“ At any rate, that was the effect in this instance. The poor 


102 


THE INDIANS. 


They follow the travelers and waylay them. 

Indian submitted for the moment to his fear of the pistol, but a 
strong feeling of resentment was awakened in his mind. In this 
feeling his friends and comrades shared, and they resolved to fol- 
low the travelers secretly that day, and in the night to steal one 
of the mules. 

“ This plan they carried into effect. They followed the party 
of travelers all that day. At night they stole up secretly to the 
place where the mules were fastened, and took one of them, and 
began to drive him away. The other mules neighed, and so gave 
the alarm. The white men started up and seized their guns, and 
one of them fired at the Indians as they were making off with the 
mule. The Indian who had the mule was killed, but the rest 
made their escape. They were, however, now more exasperated 
than ever, and more than ever determined on revenge. 

“ So they went forward to a place where there was a narrow 
pass between the rocks, which they supposed the party of travel- 
ers would have to go through, and lay in wait there, with a great 
many stones ready to throw down upon the travelers when they 
should come by. I have got a picture of this scene.” 

So saying, the colonel took out the drawing from his portfolio. 
You may see the same picture on the opposite page. 

“There,” said the colonel, “on the left, upon the top of the 
rocks, we see the Indians. They are throwing down big stones 
upon the heads of the travelers. The travelers are struck with 
sudden consternation. They are trying to shield themselves as 
well as they can from the falling stones. The men who had charge 
of the mules have hurried on, and are trying to get out of the way 


THE INDIANS, 


103 


The Indians on the rocks. 


Taking aim at them. 



THE SURPRISE. 

as fast as they can. One of the travelers has gone off to the right 
to a place where he can get good aim, and is pointing his gun at 
the Indians on the rocks, ready to fire. Perhaps he may hit one 
of the Indians, and perhaps not. Even if he hits him and kills 
him, it will do no good, as it will only exasperate the Indians the 
more against the party, and make them the more determined on 
revenge.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I should think it would.” 

. “It is all the fault of the white men,” said Bell. “If they 


104 


THE INDIANS. 


The colonel’s opinion in respect to the Indians. 

would treat the Indians well, then the Indijans would not trouble 
them at all.” 

“They would noh trouble us so much,” said the colonel, “or, 
rather, they would not be so likely to trouble us ; but I don’t 
think we could rely entirely on our kind treatment of them for our 
safety. They are savages after all, and they are often very fero- 
cious, especially when they are very hungry. They are not much 
better than a species of wild animal at best ; and when they are 
on the point of starvation, they are like so many wolves. 

“ Then, besides,” continued the colonel, “ any one party of trav- 
elers may resolve to treat the Indians with the greatest kindness 
and consideration, and yet they may have been preceded by some 
other party that have outrageously wronged them. In such cases 
the Indians make no distinction, but they take their revenge on 
the first party of white men that come within their power.” 

“That is very unjust,” said Bell. 

“True,” said the colonel; “but almost all nations, civilized 
and savage, do the same. If the government of one Christian na- 
tion has a quarrel with the government of another, they make a 
descent any where on the coast, and burn the towns and destroy 
the people, without ever stopping to inquire whether the persons 
thus made to suffer were in any way guilty in respect to the 
causes of the war.” 

“I think it is very wrong to do so,” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “it seems very unjust and cruel, but 
such is the invariable custom of war. At any rate, the Indians 
make no distinction between the innocent and the guilty. If they 


THE INDIANS. 


105 


Proper place for a camp. Indian arrows. Ambuscades. 

are injured by one white man, they revenge themselves on the next 
one they meet, be he who he may. 

“It is consequently always necessary,” continued the colonel, 
“when we are traveling through a country inhabited by Indians 
that there is the least reason to suppose unfriendly, that we should 
keep up a constant watch and guard. When night comes, we have 
to choose our place of encampment with great care. Sometimes, 
when we think there is a good deal of danger, we like to have the 
camp in the middle of an open plain, far away from any hiding- 
places where the Indians might lie in ambush.” 

“ But I should think it would be better to be near the hiding- 
places,” said Stanley, “ and so hide in them yourselves.” 

“No,” replied his father, “that is not so safe, for the Indians 
might creep up under cover of the hiding-places in the night, and 
shoot us while we are asleep.” 

“ Do the Indians have guns ?” asked Stanley. 

“ Sometimes they have guns, and sometimes they have bows 
and arrows,” said the colonel. “ The arrows are poisoned, so that 
the least prick from one of them is sure to kill. The Indians find 
out where the camp is by the smoke of the fire, and then they 
creep up to it when it is dark. They keep away at a little dis- 
tance, where they are themselves concealed by the darkness, but 
they see the white men by the light of the fire which shines upon 
them. 

“ For this reason,” continued the colonel, “it is not safe, when 
unfriendly Indians are near, to stand or sit about the fire in the 
evening or night, as they are doing in this picture.” 


106 


THE INDIANS. 

Picture of emigrants around a camp-fire. 


So saying the colonel showed the children another drawino- 
It represented a considerable party of emigrants standing anl st 
tmg around their camp-fire. Here is the picture. S 



THE CAMP-FIRE. 

children" P ItYs rplrivof rg6; ^ C ° nSiStS ° f ™ n ’ Women - and 
the West. 7 6miSrantS S° ln S t0 a new home in 

“They have a wagon with them, drawn by horses or oxen. 



THE INDIANS. 


107 


Description of the picture. Danger from hostile Indians. 

They have unharnessed the horses or oxen, and have sent them 
away to feed upon the grass which grows near by. Of course, 
one or two of the party keep with the animals to watch them. We 
see the wagon itself in the picture, under the tall trees. It is cov- 
ered with a canvas to keep the goods and provisions dry. Two 
men are sitting on the shafts, talking together, and resting from 
the fatigues of the journey. Another man is standing near them 
by the wheel. He seems to be smoking a pipe. 

“A little to the left of the wagon is a fire, with the emigrants 
sitting around it in groups. One man is bringing more wood to 
put upon it. Two women are sitting upon the ground, with their 
backs toward us and their faces toward the fire. By the side of 
them is a box or bag of some sort, which I suppose contains pro- 
visions to be used for their supper. Beyond the fire, a little to 
the left, we see a group of women and children. One of the women 
lias a child in her arms. 

“ The light of the fire shines upon the people that stand around 
it so as strongly to illuminate their faces and forms, and make it 
very easy for Indians to aim at them, if there should chance to be 
any hostile Indians lurking around. A hostile Indian might, in 
such a case, creep up into the thickets until he came in sight of 
the groups by the fire, and then shoot an arrow into one of the 
men with very little difficulty or danger to himself. 

“ This, however, is an excellent place for an encampment, pro- 
vided there are no hostile Indians near. The thicket of trees and 
bushes affords shelter, and keeps off the night wind. The ground 
is smooth too, and the neighborhood furnishes grass for the cattle. 


108 


THE INDIANS. 


The children wish to see more pictures. Boulders. 

And, wliat is more important still, there is a good supply of water 
at hand for the cattle and for the emigrants themselves to drink. 
We see the water in the foreground. It comes from a fountain. 
The water forms quite a pretty little pool, with grass and flowers 
growing on the margin of it.” 

“I think it is a very pleasant place,” said Bell. 

“ Yes,” replied the colonel, “it is a pleasant place, and people 
can spend the night very comfortably in such a place, if it is a 
pleasant season of the year, and if they have plenty of food and 
of warm clothing, and if they have no fear of Indians near. I have 
got another very pretty picture of an encampment to show you 
some day.” 

“ To-day, father,” said Stanley. “ Show it to us to-day.” 

“No,” said his father. “ It would make too much for Bell to 
draw. I don’t wish to show you the pictures any faster than you 
can draw them, and, unfortunately, it happens that the pictures 
of the prettiest places are the hardest to draw. I have got some- 
where a picture of a great rock which would be very easy to draw, 
though the place would be a dismal place to encamp in. The 
rock is a boulder.” 

“ Let us see it, father,” said Stanley. 

“ What is a boulder ?” asked Bell. 

The colonel began to look in his portfolio for the picture of the 
boulder, and as he looked he explained what a boulder was. 

“The name boulder,” said the colonel, “is the name that ge- 
ologists give to large detached rocks that lie loose upon or in the 
ground, as if they had been brought to the spot from some other 


THE INDIANS. 


109 


Picture of a big boulder. 


Estimate of its size. 


place. Ah ! here it is,” he 
added, when he had found 
the drawing. “You see it 
is the picture of a large loose 
rock lying upon the ground. 
Such rocks are called bould- 
ers. Rocks, on the other 
hand, that form part of a sol- 
id ledge, are said to be in 
place. The boulders are sup- 
posed to be out of place. 

4 4 Boulders are not usually 
great boulder. so large as this,” continued 

the colonel. 44 This is a monster. You can see how large it is 
by comparing it with the size of the man who is standing by it.” 

44 Yes, sir,” said Stanley. 44 1 can imagine that I am standing 
where that man is and looking up. The rock would look very 
high indeed.” 

44 Yes,” said the colonel ; 44 it is as high as a four or five story 
house. It is very large for a boulder. There are some cliffs in 
the distance, on the right, that look very high. They are, in re- 
ality, much higher than the boulder, but then they are in place. 
Bocks in place are often thousands of feet high, but it is very rare 
to find a boulder that is even fifty feet high.” 



110 


BIVOUACKING. 


Account of the mode of bivouacking. 


Building a hut. 


CHAPTER XL 

BIVOUACKING. 

“What is bivouacking, father?” asked Stanley. 

“It is encamping in the open air, without any tents, or huts, or 
artificial shelter of any kind,” said the colonel. 

“ Do they encamp in huts sometimes ?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes,” replied the colonel, “very often. If the party have no 
tents, they generally build a hut of some kind, if they have mate- 
rials for building one. The best materials are the small trees with 
the leaves on them, or the branches of large trees. 

“ If it is a cold night, but clear,” continued the colonel, “ you 
do not need a very thick covering over your head. All that is 
required is enough to keep off the wind and the dew. The way 
to build a simple hut is to drive four stakes into the ground, with 
crotches at the upper ends of them. Two of these stakes ought 
to be about six feet high. Those two are to make the front of 
the hut. The two which are to form the back of the hut need not 
be more than two or three feet high. 

“Across these crotched stakes you lay poles, to form the roof 
of your hut, and you cover the whole with branches. You also 
stand up branches against the two sides and the back of the hut 
to make walls. The front you leave open. You place the hut in 
such a position as to have the back of it toward the wind. Thus 
you are entirely sheltered, although the front is left open. If there 
is much wind, or if the wind is very chilly, then you must bank 


BIVOUACKING. 


Ill 


The way to make a bed in a camp. 


Leaves instead of feathers. 


up the hack side of the hut very thick with hushes and brands, 
or else the wind will come through in the night, and make you cold. 

“ The next thing is to make your hed. You must have some- 
thing to keep you off the ground, unless, indeed, the ground is un- 
usually warm and dry. In some very dry and sandy places among 
the rocks, where the sun has heen shining warm all day, it is safe 
to lie down upon the hare ground, with just a blanket over you; 
hut generally the ground is cold and damp, and you must have 
something for a hed to lie upon.” 

“And what do we make our hed of?” asked Stanley. 

“Dry grass and we^ds are the best,” said the colonel, “if you 
can find enough. Sometimes, in the fall of the year, there is a 
great abundance of dry leaves lying upon the ground, especially 
if you are on the margin of a forest. If you can not find any dry 
herbage, that which is green will do ; hut then you must cover it 
with a blanket, or something of that kind, before you lie down, or 
else it will feel damp and cold to you during the night.” 

“And small branches of trees will do, I suppose,” said Stanley, 
“with the leaves on them.” 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “but not so well. The leaves -are 
soft enough, but the branches themselves, especially the ends of 
them, make hard places in the bed.” 

While the colonel was thus speaking, he had been looking over 
his portfolio to find the picture of an encampment in a pretty place, 
which he had mentioned to the children the evening before. He 
now found the picture, and, taking it out from the portfolio, he laid 
it down before them. 


112 


BIVOUACKING. 






PLEASANT CAMPING-GROUND 








BIVOUACKING. 


113 


Description of the picture. Way of hanging a kettle. The chain. 

It was a very pretty picture indeed. It represented a beauti- 
ful landscape among the mountains, with picturesque groups on 
either hand, and level and fertile land in the centre and in the 
foreground. On this level land were to be seen a small party of 
travelers gathered round a fire. It was the middle of the day, 
and they seemed to have stopped to rest and to eat their dinner. 
There was a kettle on the fire. This kettle was suspended by a 
chain from three sticks, which were set in the ground around the 
fire, in an inclined position, in such a manner that the tops met 
together above, and formed a point of support for the upper end 
of the chain. One of the men was lying down upon the ground. 
The others were reclining in various positions and attitudes, 
which, however, all indicated that they felt quite comfortable and 
at their ease. 

“ That’s a good way to hang a kettle over a fire,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” replied the colonel, “it is an excellent way. You and 
Bell might make candy so, out in the field, some day. Make a 
little fire, and hang the kettle over it by means of three stakes set 
in the ground. Another way is to set up two stakes in the 
ground, with crotches in the upper part of them. You then lay a 
pole across from one crotch to the other, and hang your kettle 
from the pole. Have you got a chain?” 

“ I've got a chain,” said Dorie. “ See 1” 

So saying, Dorie drew out her chain from her pocket, to show 
it to Stanley. At first Stanley thought that it would not be 
strong enough, but Colonel Markham said he thought it would be. 

“ And, at any rate,” said he, “you can double it, and then there 

H 


19 


114 


BIVOUACKING. 


A party bivouacking. The messes. Division of the food. 

will be no doubt. It will be better for you to set up the poles 
and hang the kettle before you build the fire ; then the smoke and 
the fire will not trouble you while you are adjusting the chain. 
You must hang the kettle pretty low, too. The lower you hang 
it, the less fire you will require to make it boil. 

“But now about bivouacking,” continued the colonel. “The 
people in this picture are bivouacking, for you see that they are in 
the open air. They have no shelter of any kind. Indeed, they 
do not need any shelter, for it is in the middle of the day, and the 
weather is very pleasant. The air is almost calm. See how 
gently the smoke floats away from their fire. One of the men 
has got a pipe. The rest of the men are talking about their jour- 
ney, and relating stories to while away the time. They belong 
to a large company of travelers. The general camp is not very 
far off, but these men have come away to a pleasant place by 
themselves, to cook and eat their dinner together. They belong 
to one mess .” 

“ What is a mess ?” asked Stanley. 

“All large companies of travelers or of soldiers are divided 
into small parties called messes ,” said the colonel. “ Each mess 
keeps its food separate from the rest, and they cook it and eat it 
together. The man who has the charge of the general stores 
serves out a portion to each mess, and they take it, cook it, and 
divide it — each around its own separate fire.” 

“But, father,” said Stanley, “you did not finish telling us 
about building the hut.” 

“No,” said the colonel, “I did not quite finish, though I did 


BIVOUACKING. 


115 


Building a fire. 


A good stock of wood must be laid in. 


pretty nearly. I told you, I believe,” he added, “ that you leave 
one side of the hut open.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Stanley. 

“ That is the side where you build the fire,” added the colonel. 
“You go into the woods before you go to bed, and get a quantity 
of wood — the bigger the logs are, the better. With this wood you 
build a large fire opposite the opening of your hut. The light from 
the fire shines into the hut where you are lying on the bushes, 
and makes it very pleasant. The warmth, too, comes in, and keeps 
you comfortable all night. 

“That is,” continued the colonel, “provided you get wood 
enough to keep up a good fire all night. I advise you always, 
when you encamp in this way, to lay in an abundant stock of 
wood before you go to bed ; for if your fire burns out in the night, 
and it becomes cold, and you have no more wood to put on, you 
will have to suffer patiently till morning.” 

“Why, could not we get up and go and get some more wood ?” 
asked Stanley. 

“ Not very well,” said the colonel. “It requires a great deal 
of resolution to get up in the middle of the night, and go groping 
about in a dark wood for fuel. Indeed, it is very dangerous to do 
so. There is no knowing what traps and pitfalls you may tumble 
into, or how many wild beasts you may stumble upon. Besides, 
there is something inconceivably dismal and gloomy in a dark for- 
est at midnight ; and a great many hunters, who are extremely 
courageous by day, will rather suffer a great deal from cold in their 
camp than to go groping about after fuel in the forest at midnight. 


116 


BIVOUACKING. 


It is not safe to have a bright fire. Way to make roofs. 

“ If there are any hostile Indians near,” continued the colonel, 
“ such a camp as this is not safe, for the Indians can see you in 
it by the light of the fire which shines in, and can shoot you as 
you lie asleep ; but if there are no Indians near, you can get along 
very comfortably in such a hut as this, provided it does not rain.” 

“And what if it rains?” said Stanley. 

“ If there is any probability that it will rain,” said the colonel, 
“ you must build the hut somewhat differently. You must make 
the roof a great deal steeper, and cover it thicker with boughs. 
The way to make the roof steeper is to have the front posts lon- 
ger, and those behind shorter. Indeed, sometimes it is best not to 
have any posts at all behind, but to let the ends of the poles and 
branches which form the covering for the roof come down quite to 
the ground. This will give the roof a greater pitch, and cause it 
to carry off the rain better ; but even then it requires some art to 
dispose of the branches in such a way that the foliage shall carry 
off the rain instead of letting it come through. I don’t think you 
would succeed very well.” 

“I should like to try,” said Stanley. “I mean to try some 
day when I go out in the woods.” 

“ Well,” said his father, “ you can try. Get some good strong- 
boys to help you ; and remember that the steeper you make your 
roof the better. The Indians always make their roofs very steep. 
Opposite is a picture of a wigwam that shows this very well. The 
covering of it is made of skins sewed together. The frame is 
made of poles set in the ground. Don’t you see the ends of the 
poles coming out at the top ?” 


BIVOUACKING. 


117 


Steep roofs. Directions for placing the poles. 

“ Yes,” said Stanley, “ I 
see them.” 

“Let me see them too,” 
said Dorie. So saying, Do- 
ne looked over the picture, 
and seemed to be examining 
it very eagerly. “What! 
those little sticks coming 
out at the top ?” said she. 

“ Yes,” said the colonel ; 
“those are the upper ends 
of the poles. The lower 
ends are set in the ground. You might make a hut in this way, 
slowly. You might make the holes in the ground with a crow- 
bar, and thus set the lower ends of your poles into them.” 

“ But then how can I get up to tie the upper ends together ?” 
asked Stanley. 

“ Oh, you must tie them together before you put them up,” said 
the colonel. “You get your poles together — six would be about 
the right number — and you lay them on the ground, the tops all 
one way, and the butts the other. Then you tie the tops togeth- 
er with a cord, or any thing else of that kind. Then you make 
your six holes in the ground; arrange them in a circle as large 
round as you wish your hut to be. Then you take up your bun- 
dle of poles, and raise the top ends up into the air. This you can 
do easily if you have one or two boys to help you. Then, while 
the upper ends are in the air, you spread the lower ends around 



STEEP ROOF. 


118 


BIVOUACKING. 


Covering for the roof. Place for the door. Way of making it. 

on the ground, so as to bring each one to its proper hole, and put 
it in and crowd it down as far as you can. Then your frame is 
complete.” 

“ Yes,” said Stanley, “ I see now. That is an excellent way.” 

“ Then, for covering,” said the colonel — “ if you only want your 
hut for pleasant weather, and if you have plenty of bushes or 
branches of trees at hand, you can make a pretty good covering 
by standing them up against the frame all around. In this man- 
ner you can make a hut that will afford you a very good shelter 
from the sun and wind, though it will not keep out rain.” 

“ It would keep out snow, I suppose ?” said Stanley. 

“Oh yes,” said his father, “it would keep out snow very well 
indeed, and so it would answer well for the winter. If you were 
to make such a hut in the winter, you must use the limbs of ever- 
green trees to cover it. You must take care, too, to have the d f>or 
toward the warm side — that is, toward the sun and away from the 
wind. You can build your fire inside of it ; or, if the hut is not 
large enough for that, you can build it outside, just opposite the 
door.” 

“And how do we make the door?” asked Stanley. 

“ Oh, you only leave the space between two of the poles open,” 
said the colonel. “If you think that the space that naturally 
comes between the poles is not going to be quite wide enough for 
a door, then, when you are making the holes in the ground to set 
the ends of the poles into, you make the space wider between two 
of them, where you want the door to come.” 

Stanley listened to the account which his father thus gave of 


BIVOUACKING. 


119 


Stanley determines to make a hut. His success. 

the mode of building a hut with great satisfaction and pleasure, 
and he determined that he would take an early opportunity of try- 
ing his skill in accomplishing such a work. 

“ I’ll do it,” said he, “ the first time I go into the woods, when 
I have some boys to help me. I would make one here in the yard 
if I could only get branches and bushes to cover it, and then Bell 
and Dorie could play in it too.” 

“You might cover it with some old blankets or carpets,” said 
the colonel. “ Then it would be more like the picture of the wig- 
wam which I showed you — the one that was covered with skins.” 

“So we could,” said Bell, “ and I could help you.” 

Colonel Markham was pleased to find that Bell took an inter- 
est in this plan, for he thought that out-door works and exercises 
of this kind would tend very much to re-establish her health. So 
he told Stanley that he might take some poles out of the garden 
to make his hut with whenever he pleased, and that he would 
come himself and show them how to fasten on the old carpets or 
mats to make the covering. 

This plan was accordingly carried into effect. Stanley made a 
very good hut. It stood in a corner of the yard. He and Bell 
covered the floor of it with an abundance of clean straw which 
Stanley brought from the barn, and he had two good bundles of 
straw besides for seats. Some of the children of the neighbor- 
hood came to visit Stanley and Bell in their hut, and they played 
in it many days. 


120 


HARDSHIPS. 


Great hardships sometimes encountered by travelers. 


CHAPTER XII. 

HARDSHIPS. 

“ In crossing the Rocky Mountains,” said the colonel, “ and in 
many other wild and uninhabited regions in America, the traveler 
often encounters very terrible hardship and suffering. Sometimes 
a single traveler gets separated from his company and loses his 
way, and so is obliged to journey several days perhaps alone.” 

“How does that happen?” asked Stanley. 

“It happens in various ways,” rejoined the colonel. “ Some- 
times he gets lost by going away from the camp a little distance 
to hunt for game, and then he can not find his way back again.” 

“He ought not to go away in that manner,” said Stanley. 

“ Why, it may be that he is obliged to go,” said the colonel. 
“ The party may be short of provisions, and it may be necessary 
for them to scatter in various directions with their guns in order 
to increase the chance that they may shoot something which will 
keep them from starving. In such a case as this, they may some 
of them be enticed away by game farther than they are aware, and 
so not be able to find their way back again.” 

“ They ought to have some marks,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” replied the colonel; “but it is very easy, in such a 
case, to mistake the mark, and so get bewildered and lost. I 
knew a hunter who went away from his party in this way on the 
great desert, trusting to his being able to find his way back again 
to the camp by means of his own tracks in the sand. But a wind 


HARDSHIPS. 


121 


The traveler who lost his way. Lying in the snow. 

came up and blew the sand, so that, when he attempted to retrace 
his path, he found the tracks all obliterated.” 

“Hoh!” exclaimed Stanley. “And'what did he do?” 

“ He found his way back again after a while,” replied the colo- 
nel. “ Men often lose their way in this manner in traveling over 
the snow. A new snow falls, or a wind begins to blow, and the 
path is entirely covered up so as to become totally invisible.” 

“ But, father,” said Stanley, “ I thought they did not travel in 
the winter.” 

“ They generally travel in the summer, if possible,” said the col- 
onel, “ but in crossing the Rocky Mountains they often encoun- 
ter the snow. I have got a drawing in my portfolio of a man 
lost among the snows in the Rocky Mountains. The drawing 

shows you how he bivouack- 
ed at night.” 

Thus saying, the colonel 
took out this picture from 
his portfolio. It represents 
the traveler lying in a bed 
of bushes which he has made 
for himself in the snow. He 
had no means of making a 
hut, or of building a fire, 
and so he broke off branch- 
es from the fir-trees that 
grew near, and made a bed 
with them. He also cover- 



BIVOUACKING IN THE SNOW. 


122 


HARDSHIPS. 


Danger from the wolves. Fir-trees. Their usefulness to the traveler. 

ed himself over with them after he had lain down in the bed which 
he had thus made. 

“ He said that he slept quite warm and comfortable until the 
morning,” added the colonel. 

“I wonder the wolves did not come and eat him up,” said 
Stanley. 

“ I wonder at that too,” said Bell. 

“ There was some danger, perhaps,” said the colonel. 

“ I see the tracks that he made walking about in the snow be- 
fore he lay down,” said Dorie. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “The tracks are in the foreground. 
In the background we see the snowy peaks of the Rocky Mount- 
ains, far away.” 

“And in the foreground there are some fir-trees,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “Fir-trees grow in these cold re- 
gions, and as they are evergreens, and so preserve their foliage all 
the year, they often afford the traveler a very comfortable shelter. ” 

“Why did not this man make his bed under the fir-trees here?” 
asked Bell. 

“ I suppose, perhaps, because there were not enough growing 
together to make a good shelter,” said the colonel. 

“ At any rate he got branches from them to make his bed with,” 
said Bell. “ They did him some good.” 

“So he did,” said Stanley. 

“Now I have got another picture to show you,” continued the 
colonel, “of the same traveler at the encampment in the snow after 
he had rejoined his company.” 


HARDSHIPS. 


123 


The traveler by his camp-fire. Firs and snowy mountains in the distance. 

So saying, the colonel took this picture from his portfolio. It 

represents the traveler stand- 
ing under a tree near his camp- 
fire. He has his gun over his 
shoulder. He is looking out 
for game. There is a large 
sheet of water on the plain 
before him, which, though it 
is partly covered with ice, is 
partly open. He is looking 
to see if there are any ducks 
or aquatic birds there. The 
other men of the party have 
gone off in different directions 
with their guns, to see what 
they can find to shoot for their breakfast. 

In the foreground is the fire, with the kettle hanging over it. 
The kettle is suspended over the fire by means of three stakes 
united together at the top in the manner represented in a pre- 
ceding drawing. 

In the distance are mountains covered with snow. 

Sometimes a party of travelers are overtaken on the mountains 
by a violent snow-storm, during the progress of which the snow 
falls so deep that they can not pursue their jtftirney. In this 
case their situation becomes extremely critical. They can not go 
on, for the snow soon becomes so deep that they can not wade 
through it. Nor do they know which way to go, for the air be- 



124 


HARDSHIPS. 


Shelter afforded by a forest. Danger in a snow-storm. 

comes so thick with the snow that they can see but a very little 
way before them ; and, besides, the falling flakes are driven into 
their faces by the wind, so as nearly to blind them. If they stop 
they can not build a fire, nor if they are in an open country can 
they have any possible shelter. 

If they could come to a forest at such a time, all their troubles 
would at once be ended. The foliage would shelter the ground, 
so that, however violently the wind might rage and roar over the 
tops of the trees, the air would be calm below, and the flakes would 
fall there gently to the ground. The branches of the trees would 
furnish the party with the means of making a hut, and the fallen 
trunks and broken limbs with abundant supplies of fuel. They 
might also very probably find some animals in the wood to shoot 
for food. 

But when a party is caught by a snow-storm in an open plain, 
they are exposed to the most imminent danger. They can not 
go on, and if they stop it would seem that they must certainly 
perish from cold and exposure. 

“What can they do then?” asked Stanley, when his father ex- 
plained this to him: “must they certainly die?” 

“They do often die,” said the colonel, “and the next summer 
the parties of travelers that follow them find their bones whitening 
on the plain ; but sometimes they save themselves. I once heard 
of a party of six*men who kept themselves alive till the storm was 
over in this way: they scooped out a place in the snow large 
enough for them to sit down in a circle close together, with their 
knees all together in the middle. Then they all sat down but one. 


HARDSHIPS. 


125 


Company of travelers overtaken by a snow-storm. 

He spread a blanket over the heads of the others, bringing the 
sidfts and corners down into the snow. Then he banked up the 
snow all around the blanket, so as to keep it from being blown 
away, and also to keep the cold wind from coming through upon 
the backs of his comrades. He left the blanket open on one side, 
so that he could have a place to crawl in himself. Finally, when 
he had banked up the snow enough all around, except at the place 
where he had left an opening, he crawled in himself, and crouched 
down with the rest. Thus they were protected from the storm 
and kept warm, the natural warmth of their breaths and of their 
bodies being all saved.” 

“ But, father,” said Bell, “ I should think that they would have 
been frozen quicker to be covered up in that way in the snow.” 

“No,” said the colonel. “Snow makes very good blanket- 
ing-” 

“ But, father,” said Stanley, “ snow is cold, but blankets are 
warm.” 

“We often say that blankets are warm,” said the colonel, “ but 
what we mean by that is that they are good to keep us warm when 
we are wrapped up in them. They are no warmer in themselves 
than any thing else. If you go into a chamber in the summer 
when the thermometer is at sixty degrees, you will find every 
thing in the room of that temperature, blankets and all. There 
may be water in a tumbler on the table, and a blanket on the bed. 
They will both be of the same temperature — sixty degrees. And 
yet the water wduld feel cold to your hand, while the blanket 
would not.” 


126 


HARDSHIPS. 


Non-conductors of heat. 


An experiment proposed with two snow-balls. 


“Well, but, father,” said Bell, “if the water is really just as 
warm as the blanket, what makes it feel so cold ?” • 

“Because it carries off the warmth of your hand faster. 
Warmth can not pass through a blanket easily. Consequently, 
if you wrap up any thing in a blanket that is already warm, it 
keeps warm. The warmth can not get out through the blanket. 
If, on the other hand, you wrap up any thing cold in a blanket, it 
keeps cold. The warmth can not come in through the blanket to 
warm it. 

“You might prove this some morning very easily, when there 
is snow on the ground, by means of a pretty experiment.” 

“How?” asked Stanley. Stanley was always very much 
pleased with trying experiments. 

“ Take two stones,” said the colonel, “ as nearly as possible of 
the same size — about as large, for example, as an orange. Put 
them both down together before the fire, and heat them hot. Heat 
them as nearly alike as possible. Also make two snow-balls, as 
nearly as you can of the same size, and of the same hardness. 
Now wrap one of the snow-balls up in a piece of flannel, or blank- 
et, or thick woolen cloth. The more you wrap it up, the better. 
When it is thus wrapped up, put it on a plate on the kitchen table. 
Put the other snow-ball in another plate, but without wrapping it 
in any thing. Then you will have one snow-ball wrapped in a 
blanket, and the other exposed to the open air. 

“Now do the same with the hot stones, only in this case it is 
not necessary to put them in plates ; you put them directly on 
the table. Then you will have one hot stone and one snow-ball 


HARDSHIPS. 


127 


Stanley mentions a difficulty. The colonel’s reply. 

wrapped in a blanket or something of the kind, and the other stone 
and the other snow-ball exposed. Leave them so for half an hour 
or more, and then come and examine them. You will find that 
the stone in the blanket is warmer than the one out of it, while 
the snow-ball in the blanket will not be as much melted as the 
other; that is, the blanket will keep the hot thing hot, and the 
cold thing cold. The reason is, that the nature of it is such 
that it does not allow warmth to pass through it easily either 
way. If the thing within it is warm, the warmth can not get out, 
and thus it can not get cooled. On the other hand, if the thing 
is cold, then the warmth can not get in, and so the thing can not 
get warm.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I understand it now; only I should 
think, according to that, that if we were cold when we go to bed, 
the blankets would keep us cold instead of warming us.” 

Colonel Markham laughed, and said that Stanley’s inference 
would seem, at first view, to be pretty fair. 

“ To explain the difficulty,” said he, “ we must consider how it 
is that we expect to get warm in the night when we go to bed 
cold and cover ourselves with blankets. Where is the warmth to 
come from ?” 

“ Why, from the blankets, I suppose,” said Stanley. 

“No,” replied the colonel. “Children often suppose so, but 
that is a mistake. The warmth is all produced within us by the 
action of the heart and lungs. All that the blankets do is to keep 
the warmth that is thus generated from getting away. The blank- 
ets keep it in, and so it accumulates, until finally we become quite 


128 


HARDSHIPS. 


Various non-conductors of heat. 


Experiment with a pin and a candle. 


warm. A blanket fills people with warmth j ust^as a dam fills a 
pond with water. A dam does not produce any water, it only 
keeps what comes in by the stream from flowing away. So the 
blanket does not produce any warmth ; it only keeps what is pro- 
duced by the heart and lungs from escaping into the air. 

“Any thing that does not permit heat to pass through it easily 
is called a non-conductor of heat ; that means that it does not 
conduct heat easily. Wood is a pretty good non-conductor of heat. 
Iron, on the other hand, is a conductor. Heat passes through iron 
very easily. If you put one end of an iron rod in the fire, and 
hold the other end in your hand, in a short time the outer end will 
become too hot to hold. The heat is conducted along through the 
substance of the iron. So it is with a pin. Hold one end of a 
pin in a lamp or candle, and in a minute or two the heat will run 
along the metal and burn your fingers.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I’ve burned my fingers so many a time.” 

“And now,” said the colonel, “I can not talk with you any 
more to-night, but I have got one more picture to show you.” 

So saying, the colonel took out from his portfolio the picture 
represented on the opposite page. 

“ It is a picture,” said he, “ of men in the woods reduced to ex- 
treme distress. Two of them, who are religious men, have gone 
away from the rest into a retired place in the woods, and are kneel- 
ing down to pray to God to have mercy upon them and save them 
from the great danger they are in.” 

“Have they lost their way?” asked Stanley. 

“ Yes,” said the colonel, “ they have lost their way, and they 


HARDSHIPS. 


129 


Picture of men in extreme distress. Forest scene. 


are out of provisions, and are worn out and exhausted with long 
and fatiguing marches, and they know not what to do. It is a 



EXTREME DISTRESS. 


great comfort to feel, in such times of great danger and distress, 
that God is our friend, and that we can go to Him, and commit 
ourselves to his keeping and care. To do this soothes and quiets 
our minds, and comforts us exceedingly.” 


130 


SNOW. 


A snow-storm. Dorie rejoices. She hopes for a sleigh-ride. 

“Did these men get out of the woods at last?” asked Bell. 
“Yes,” said the colonel, “most of them did. Some of them 
died, but most of them succeeded in finding their way to the set- 
tlements^ and so were saved.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

SNOW. 

One day in December, when Colonel Markham was taking the 
children out to ride in a sleigh, he gave them a curious account 
of a snow-shoe mail that is established on a certain route in the 
winter, near the head-waters of the Mississippi River. 

The snow that made the sleighing for the children’s ride was 
the first fall of the season. It began one afternoon. The children 
were very much pleased when they saw it beginning to snow. 

“Now,” said Dorie, clapping her hands, “ we can have a sleigh- 
ride to-morrow, if the snow comes deep enough.” 

So she went to the window often, to watch the progress of the 
storm, and to see if there were any signs that it would stop. It 
did not stop. It continued to snow as long as Dorie could see, 
and, when she went to bed at night, though it was then so dark 
that she could not see the falling flakes, she could distinctly hear 
them clicking against the windows. 

Dorie was disappointed in her hope of having a sleigh-ride the 
next day, for a reason exactly the opposite of the snow not being 
deep enough. It was too deep — so deep, in fact, that the roads 
were almost impassable all that day ; and as the snow continued 


SNOW. 


131 


Tlie children go to ride. 


Account of the snow-shoe mail. 


falling, and tlie wind blew so as to drift it heavily, it was of very 
little use to attempt to break out the roads. On the evening of 
the second day the storm abated, and on the morning of the third 
the sun came out bright and the air was calm. The country peo- 
ple came out with oxen and heavy sleds to break out the roads, 
and by the middle of the day the pleasure-sleighs began to go by 
in great numbers, the bells jingling merrily. In the afternoon 
^Colonel Markham took the children to ride, and it was in the 
course of that ride that he told them about the snow-shoe mail. 

“ Snow, you see,” said the colonel, “ helps the traveling a great 
deal, and makes it easier, provided there is traveling enough over 
one road to keep the path well broken ; otherwise it hinders it. 
The first persons that go along a road after a deep snow has fallen, 
if they intend to make a road there to be regularly traveled, have 
to break through the drifts, and trample down the snow, which is 
a very laborious work. When the road is well broken out, it can 
be traveled very easily, for runners will slip over it much more 
readily than wheels can be drawn on any common road. 

“But on this mail-route that I am going to tell you about,” 
continued the colonel, “there is scarcely any traveling. The mail 
goes once a fortnight, and that is all ; and as storms come as 
often, upon an average, as once a fortnight, the mail-drivers, if 
they were to attempt to travel in the usual way by going through 
the snow, and beating it down, would have to be breaking out 
roads all the time ; so, instead of going through the snow, they 
contrive ways and means for going over it.” 

“ How do they manage that?” asked Stanley. 


132 


SNOW. 


Description of a snow-shoe. Mode of using snow-shoes. Sleighs. 

“They use snow-shoes and dogs,” said the colonel. “The 
dogs, being light, do not sink much in the snow, but can run 
along nearly upon the top of it, and can draw sleds, which, if they 
are made light and have broad runners, will not sink much ei- 
ther. The men are kept up by their snow-shoes. 

“ The snow-shoes are broad and flat shoes, a foot wide and a 
foot and a half long. They are round before and pointed behind,^ 
and are made of some sort of basket-work, or of thongs braided 
together. They are fastened to the foot by straps. They pre- 
vent the feet from sinking down into the snow. It is rather hard 
to walk on them, but it is much easier to do so than to wallow 
through soft snow. When the snow is hard, the men take the 
snow-shoes off and walk without them.” 

“ What ! barefooted ?” said Dorie. 

“Oh no,” said the colonel. “When people wear snow-shoes, 
they always have other shoes or boots besides. The snow-shoes 
are not to keep the feet warm, but only to keep them from sink- 
ing into the snow. 

“ They have to make the sleds, too, of a peculiar fashion, to pre- 
vent them from sinking. A sleigh or a sled that is to run upon 
a hard road may have its runners narrow — in fact, it is much bet- 
ter to have them narrow. But if the snow is soft, the runners 
ought to be wide ; and if it is very soft indeed, they ought to be 
very wide. In the sleds used on this snow mail-route, the whole 
of the bottom of the sled is runner. Indeed; the sled is made 
very much like what the farmers call a drag. 

“ Each sled is drawn by two dogs. It is followed and attend- 


SNOW. 


133 


Loading of the sleds. Difficulty of walking on snow-shoes. 

ed by one man on snow-shoes. Then comes another sled, drawn 
by two more dogs, followed by another man, and so on through 
the whole train. 

“The men are loaded as well as the sleds. They each carry 
fifty pounds or more, and on the sleds they put about two hund- 
red and fifty pounds. This load consists of the mail-bags, which 
are filled with letters and papers, and also of supplies of provi- 
sions for the men and the dogs on the journey. Besides the mails 
and the provisions, they have to carry a small axe on each sled, 
and some simple cooking utensils and other such things. Then 
there are usually some passengers. These passengers are men 
who have to go to and fro bn business in the winter, and so, for 
safety, they always make the journey in company with the mail. 
The passengers walk like the rest, wearing snow-shoes. They 
travel thirty or forty miles a day.” 

“ I should not think they could go so far,” said Stanley. 

“Nor I,” said the colonel ; “but, after people get accustomed 
to traveling on snow-shoes, they can get over the ground pretty 
fast with them. Then, besides, they do not have to wear the 
snow-shoes all the time. It is only when the snow is deep and 
soft that they are necessary. If the snow is not deep, or if it is 
hard enough to bear them, they take off the snow-shoes and put 
them on the sleds. 

“ They generally have no track to guide them on their journey, 
for every fresh fall of snow covers up the track made by them 
when they went that way before. Often they are guided by a line 
of blazed trees. Do you know what I mean by blazed trees ?” 


134 


SNOW. 


Blazed trees. The sun. The compass. Preparing for an encampment. 

The children said they did not know, unless it meant trees 
blackened by having been on fire. 

“ No,” said the colonel, “ it does not mean that. It means trees 
marked with an axe. They have a way of marking trees by hew-> 
ing off a small spot on the side of them, to denote the % line of the 
road. The party follow these marked trees in going through 
woods. When the country is open, they usually know them way 
by the general aspect of the land. When it is pleasant weather, 
too, they have the sun to guide them ; and if it is cloudy, they go 
by the compass. 

“ They travel so all day long ; and although the cold and the 
snow impede them in some respects, they help them a great deal 
in others, for all the bogs, and morasses, and small streams of wa- 
ter are frozen hard and solid, and chasms, and holes, and pitfalls 
are filled up, so that they go along smoothly and easily where in 
the summer it would be impossible to go at all. 

“ The party do not usually stop at noon to encamp, but travel 
all day. When night comes, they look about for some sheltered 
place where they can encamp. They find, if they can, some ra- 
vine where there is water and a supply of dry wood for a fire. 
Here they deposit their loads, and the dogs lie down on the snow 
to rest. The men prepare the place for the encampment by dig- 
ging away the snow down to the ground, and throwing it up in a 
bank three or four feet high all around. In doing this, they use 
their snow-shoes for shovels. 

“While some are employed in this way preparing the camp, 
others cut wood for fuel, or trim off small branches from the ever- 


SNOW. 


135 


Mode of constructing the hut. Cooking the supper. 

green trees that grow around the spot to spread upon the ground 
for a bed. One man busies himself in making a fire. He trims 
off birch bark from the neighboring trees to kindle the fire with, 
and then piles up dry sticks on each side of the little flame and 
over it, and at length puts on larger and larger logs, so that soon 
he has a substantial fire. The light from the fire gleams cheer- 
fully on all the surrounding objects, and rejoices the hearts both 
of the dogs and the men. 

“ While one party is thus employed in building the fire, another 
is occupied in constructing a hut over the place where the snow 
was dug away. They lay poles across from the top of the snow- 
bank, thrown up on one side, to that on the other, and then cover 
the frame-work thus formed with boughs of trees. This is suffi- 
cient to keep off the cold wind and also the snow, if any snow 
should fall in the night.” 

“ And how about the rain?” asked Stanley. 

“ They have no fear of rain,” replied the colonel. “It seldom 
or never rains in that cold season of the year. 

“ Then they begin to cook their supper. If they have any fresh 
meat, obtained from game that they have shot on the way or 
bought from the Indians, they roast it before their fire. They set 
up tall pine sticks in the snow before the fire, with their tops bend- 
ing over, and then hang strips of meat from them by means of 
strings. In this way the meat gets roasted after a fashion, thougli 
they are very apt to find, when they come to eat it, that it is part 
roasted, part burned, and part raw. However, the men are hun- 
gry enough to make it all taste good.” 


136 


SNOW. 


The frying-pan. Going to bed. Snow in the night. 

“Yes,” said Stanley, “I think it would be excellent good fun 
to cook supper so.” 

“If they have no fresh meat,” continued the colonel, “ they al- 
ways have a supply of salt meat — beef and pork — which they have 
brought with them. They generally fry this.” 

“But where do they get their frying-pan?” asked Bell. 

“ Oh, they bring a small frying-pan with them,” said the col- 
onel. “ The frying-pan has a short handle, so that it may not 
take up much room in carrying. They have biscuits to eat with 
their meat, and altogether they make an excellent supper. They 
feed the dogs, too, at the same time. They all eat a prodigious 
quantity, for this is the only regular meal they have for twenty- 
four hours. 

“After they have finished their supper they prepare to go to 
bed. They take off their moccasins and their stockings, and 
spread them before the fire, or hang them up on sticks to dry them. 
They unpack their blankets too. Then they all crawl in under 
their hut, and lie down, dogs and men together, on the bed of 
hemlock branches made there, like so many birds in a nest. Here 
they sleep soundly all night, the logs of their fire burning and 
glowing with a gentle and pleasant warmth all the time, just at 
the mouth of their hovel. If it is a stormy night the snow covers 
their hut all over, and in the morning there is nothing of it to be 
seen but a great mound of snow, with a low opening on one side 
like the entrance to a cavern. 

“ They get up very early in the morning — usually long before 
daylight.” 


SNOW. 


137 


Movement in the morning. Packing. The march. 

“What do they get up so early for?” asked Stanley. 

“Why, they have a great way to go,” replied the colonel, “and 
they can not travel fast, so they must begin very early. The first 
thing you see is that some of the men begin to move, and to crawl 
out of the hut. Then a dog or two comes. Those who first wake 
up begin to make a noise and bustle, and to wake up the rest. 
They stir up the fire, and throw on the rest of the wood, and this 
enlivens the scene. Very soon they are all in motion. They get 
their moccasins and put them on, and pack up their blankets, and 
eat up what was left of the last night’s provisions, and harness the 
dogs, and in a very short time the train is ready to set out again. 
The dogs do not like to be harnessed, and sometimes they moan 
and whine piteously, but they are compelled to submit. When 
all are ready, the men sling their packs on their shoulders, and 
they set off, following each other in a long line over the trackless 
snow.” 

“Do they have their snow-shoes on?” asked Stanley. 

“ That depends upon the condition of the snow,” replied the 
colonel. “ If there has been a fresh fall of snow during the night, 
or within a few days, they do ; but if the snow is old and hard, 
so that they can walk upon the top of it, they do not. In that 
case, they pack their snow-shoes on the sleds, and walk in their 
moccasins. 

“ They set out thus on their march in the very coldest time of 
the day.” 

“ Is the morning the coldest time of the day ?” asked Stanley. 

“Yes/’ said the colonel, “very early in the morning is, just 


138 


SNOW. 


Bitter cold. 


The men keep warm by the exercise of tvalking. 


before sunrise. The sun warms the ground somewhat in the 
course of the day, or, at least, renders it less cold ; but that effect 
goes off gradually in the course of the night, and toward morning 
the temperature of the earth, and of the air above it, sinks to the 
lowest point. Sometimes, when these parties begin their day’s 
journey, it is bitter cold. The thermometer is down far below 
zero. The breaths of the dogs freeze on their hair along their 
sides and cover them with frost-work, and the beards of the men, 
and the handkerchiefs about their necks, become whitened in the 
same way ; but they all get along very well. They keep them- 
selves warm with the exercise of walking.” 

“I should think their feet would be cold,” said Stanley. 

“ They wrap up their feet very warm with stockings and moc- 
casins,” said the colonel. 

Here the colonel paused, having finished his story. 

“Well,” said Stanley, after thinking a minute or two of what 
his father had been saying, “ well, I should like to go on such a 
journey; at least I should like to try it one day.” 

“I should like to try it a little while,” said Bell, “provided 
they would draw me on one of their sleds.” 

The children had a very pleasant sleigh-ride that day. They 
came home again in about an hour. 


THE TROPICS. 


139 


Colonel Markham promises to draw a picture. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

THE TROPICS. 

Of course, while Colonel Markham was taking the ride with 
the children, he could not show them any pictures. Indeed, he 
had no pictures that represented the journey of the mail-carriers 
through the snow which he had described during the ride, and it 
was partly on that account that he chose that subject for conver- 
sation at that time. 

“Father,” said Stanley, that evening at supper, “ have not you 
got a picture of the mail-carriers encamping in the snow ?” 

“No,” said the colonel, “ I have not, I am sorry to say.” 

“Well, father,” said Dorie, “could not you draw us one?” 

“ Why, yes,” said her father, “ I suppose I might possibly draw 
you one some time when I am at leisure.” 

“ I wish you would, father,” said Bell. “ I should like to see 
a picture of the camp very much ; but it must be a dreadful thing 
to travel in such a cold country as that, in such a wintry season 
of the year.” 

“No,” said Colonel Markham; “on the contrary, it is usually 
much more safe and much more comfortable traveling in the most 
bitter cold weather in the winter, in northern countries, than it 
ever is in the tropical regions of the south.” 

“ Oh, father !” exclaimed Bell. 

“ I have got some pictures of a party traveling in tropical re- 
gions, which I will show you after supper,” said the colonel. 


140 


THE TROPICS. 


The colonel shows the children a picture from a book. 


“Did you draw them, father?” asked Bell. 

“JSTo,” said the colonel, “they are in a book.” 

After supper, Colonel Markham brought the book, .and showed 
the children the pictures. This was the first one. 



TIKED OUT. 

“ They have got a raft,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “They traveled through the woods 
and thickets until they became almost exhausted, and so, coming 
to a river, they built a raft, and undertook to sail down the river 



THE TROPICS. 


141 


Rapids. Party tired out. Long hair and beard. 

upon it. But they came to a great many crooked places and 
rapids, and they had a great deal of hard work to get the raft 
along. At last they came to this place, where some trees have 
fallen across the stream, so that they can not possibly go any far- 
ther without cutting the trees away. And now they don’t know 
what to do.” 

“Can’t they walk a little way now?” asked Stanley. 

“They are all very tired,” said the colonel, “and one of them 
is so exhausted that he says he can not and will not go any far- 
ther. So he stays on the raft. The others are trying to persuade 
him to come, but he won’t move.” 

“Yes,” said Stanley. “One of them is pointing down the 
river the way they must go.” 

“And one is dipping up some water in a bowl,” said Dorie. 
“ I suppose he is going to take a drink.” 

“ True,” said the colonel. “ There are two of them that are 
lying down on the ground. They are very tired too, but they are 
willing to try to go on if the others think it is best. One of the 
men that are lying down has leaned his gun against a tree.” 

“ How long their beards have grown!” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “ They can not carry shaving-appa- 
ratus very well, or even stop to shave, when on such expeditions 
as these ; so the men begin to look pretty shaggy when they have 
been some time in the woods. 

“ There are various reasons,” continued the colonel, “why trav- 
eling in tropical regions and in warm weather is more laborious 
and uncomfortable than it is in cold regions in the winter. In 


142 


THE TROPICS. 


Nature of tropical vegetation. Cutting wood. 

tlie first place, men can not endure so much when exposed to heat 
as when exposed to cold. The very exercise and labor of travel- 
ing is a remedy for the cold, while it only aggravates the heat, 
and sometimes makes the suffering occasioned by it almost intol- 
erable. Then cold is healthy and stimulating. Heat is unhealthy 
and enervating. 

“ There is another thing to be considered,” continued the col- 
onel. “ The nature of the vegetation in tropical countries makes 
traveling much more difficult there than it is in the colder coun- 
tries of the North. In northern latitudes there is a great deal of 
entirely open country, where there is nothing but grass to impede 
the progress of the traveler ; and often, where the country is cov- 
ered by forests, there is no undergrowth in the way, and the trav- 
eler can go on without any difficulty wherever he pleases between 
and among the trees. 

“ In tropical countries it is very different. The land is almost 
every where covered with dense and almost impenetrable forests. 
The trees are enormously large, and the spaces between them are 
filled up with shrubs, bushes, and briers, the whole bound togeth- 
er with the stems of vines and climbing plants, and with long fes- 
toons of moss, which hang from branch to branch, and twist and 
twine about among the trees in endless convolutions. You can 
not even make your way through such a forest with axes, for the 
stems of these tropical plants are so tough and gritty that they 
take the edge off from any tool almost immediately.” 

“ Then how can you cut wood in such a forest to make a fire ?” 
asked Stanley. 


THE TEOPICS. 


143 


Very little fuel required in tropical regions. 

“You can not cut it at all,” said the colonel, “ or, at least, only 
with great difficulty ; hut then there is one comfort for you, and 
that is, you do not need any fire. It is always warm, day and 
night, and summer and winter.” 

“But, father,” said Stanley, “we should want a fire to cook our 
supper.” 

“Hardly,” said the colonel. “ In tropical countries people need 
a fire almost as little for cooking as they do for warmth ; for they 
have very little appetite for cooked food. They live chiefly on 
fruits, and other vegetable productions which require very little 
cookery. They do not live much on animal food. 

“Indeed, ” continued the colonel, “very few animals are produced 
in tropical countries that are good for food. The animals that 
thrive in such a climate are lions, leopards, tigers, and other fero- 
cious beasts, that not even cannibals would eat. As we gcr north 
we come to regions where grass grows and the various kinds of 
grain, and there we have animals which are good for food, such as 
the ox, the sheep, the deer, and, among birds, the turkey, the duck, 
the goose, and the hen, all of which furnish excellent food for man. 
In these climates, accordingly, man is provided with an appetite 
for animal food. His constitution seems to require it. He can 
not become healthy and strong on fruits alone, as he -can in the 
tropics. 

“ The farther we go north, the more marked and striking this 
change becomes, until we get into the Arctic regions, where no 
fruits grow, and where there are scarcely any vegetables which are 
proper for food. The inhabitants of these countries are conse- 


144 


THE TROPICS. 


Difference in the wants of man in different climates. 


quently compelled to live almost altogether on animal food. They 
eat the flesh of bears, deer, fish, seals, and even whales. They 
like this kind of food, too, better than any other. It is necessary 
for their constitutions. If we were to offer them figs, oranges, and 
bananas, in ever so great abundance, instead, they would not be 
satisfied. 

“ So you see,” continued the colonel, “ that the appetite of man 
and the demands of his constitution change in different climates, 
so as to adapt themselves to the food which each several climate 
produces. Thus the people who live in warm climates, where 
fruits grow in great abundance, and even travelers who merely 
pass through those countries, have an appetite for fruits, and so 
they do not generally require much fire for cooking.” 

“ Still,” said Stanley, “ if I were going to stay all night in the 
woods' any where, I should want a fire.” 

“So should I,” said the colonel. “I should want it for the 
cheering influence of its light. Besides, a fire has a great effect 
in keeping away wild beasts, and venomous reptiles and insects. 
And this reminds me of another thing that makes traveling in trop- 
ical countries much more difficult and dangerous than it is in cold 
countries, and that is the number of noxious beasts that are found 
there. You are in perpetual danger from them. The air is full 
of mosquitoes, gnats, and stinging flies of all kinds. The crevices 
in the rocks are the homes of vipers, lizards, or rattlesnakes and 
adders. You are journeying along through the forest, and, the 
first thing you know, a tiger pounces down from a tree upon one 
of your company, and carries him off as a cat would carry off a 


THE TROPICS. 


145 


Scorpions and centipedes. Bears in the winter. The torpid state. 

mouse. You go to bed at night in your hut or your tent, and, 
just as you are composing yourself to sleep, your eye, half closed, 
falls on a scorpion, or a centipede, or some other hideous reptile 
crawling over your head.” 

Here Bell uttered a sort of shuddering exclamation of disgust 
and horror which it is impossible to express by any written word. 

“In cold countries,” continued the colonel, “and especially in 
the winter season, the traveler is safe from all these things. There 
are bears, indeed, but then the bear, though he is very strong, and 
sometimes gets very hungry, is, in the main, an honest and good- 
natured sort of animal, that will generally let men alone if they 
will only let him alone. Besides, in the winter, he is almost al- 
ways asleep.” 

“Asleep!” repeated Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel; “bears go into their dens when the 
cold weather monies on, and lie there in a sort of torpid state, as 
if they were asleep, all winter. There are a great many animals 
that lie torpid in this way in the winter.” 

“ What do they have to eat ?” asked Stanley. 

“Nothing,” said the colonel. “They don’t require any food 
when they are in this torpid state. I believe they come out once 
in a while in warm days and find something to eat, and then go 
in again.” 

“ That is very curious,” said Bell. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “it is very curious indeed. It is one 
of the wonderful provisions of nature for cold climates where half 
the year is winter. Of course when the ground is frozen up, and 

K 


19 


146 


THE TROPICS. 


Three modes of providing for animals in the winter. 

the whole country is covered with snow, and nothing grows, an- 
imals can not find any food. The wisdom of God has contrived 
three ways to meet the difficulty. 

“ I will tell you the three ways in their order : 

“1. The first plan is to provide the animal with an instinct to 
lay up food for the winter in his nest or his hole. Ants do this ; 
so do squirrels. The squirrel is busy all the fall in carrying off 
nuts and acorns, and hiding them in his hole. Thus he has an 
abundant supply for the winter. He does not think any thing 
himself about the necessity of this supply. He does not know 
any thing about it. I don’t suppose he even knows what he is 
doing when he is carrying the nuts off to his hole. He is im- 
pelled by an instinct. He eats part of the nuts that he finds, 
and the rest he carries off to his hole. He does not make any 
calculation in respect to how many he will want, but he keeps on 
collecting blindly till the snow comes and covert the nuts up. 
Then he goes into his hole.” 

“And does he always have nuts enough?” asked Stanley. 

“Not always,” said the colonel. “ Sometimes he has a great 
many more than he needs, and sometimes he has not half enough. 
It is just according to the plentifulness of the year, and the con- 
venience of the hole to the trees where the nuts grow. He makes 
no calculation. The quantity becomes greater or less, just as it 
happens. 

“And suppose he has not enough to last all winter?” asked 
Stanley. 

“Then,” replied the colonel, “he burrows around under the 


THE TROPICS. 


147 


Laying up food. The bees. Large animal that lays up food. 

snow from time to time, to find something to keep him alive until 
the spring, and sometimes, on sunny days, he comes out above 
the snow, and gnaws the bark or the buds of the trees, or perhaps 
finds some remaining nuts on the branches.” 

“ Well, father, and what other animals lay up food for the win- 
ter ?” asked Bell. 

“ The bees,” said the colonel. “ The bees do more than to lay 
up food. They make it. They spend all the season of flowers 
in flying about to collect the sweet juices, and to make them into 
honey. They don’t make any calculation either. They keep at 
work all the time, as long as the flowers last, and if they have a 
convenient hive and plenty of flowers near, they make a great deal 
more honey than they need.” 

“It is very curious,” said Bell. “ But what other animal is 
there, father,” she asked, “that lays up food for the winter? Is 
there any other ?” 

“ There is one large animal that does this,” said the colonel. 
“ He lays up a variety of things for food, chiefly seeds, and also 
roots that he digs out of the ground.” 

“What animal is it ?” asked Bell. 

“And he makes vessels to put them in too,” said the colonel, 
without replying to Bell’s question. “ The vessels are different 
from those of the bees, but some of them are almost as ingenious. 
There is another thing that is very curious indeed about this ani- 
mal, and that is, that he not only lays up food from plants, but he 
kills other animals and puts pieces of their flesh down in his hole 
to keep for the winter.” 


148 


THE TROPICS. 


The hole. The torpid state. Migration. 

The children were very curious to know what animal this was, 
and at last the colonel told them it was man. 

“ Why, father,” said Stanley, “ man is not an animal.” 

“ Yes,” said the colonel, “ the word animal includes every thing 
that has life, and that can move from place to place.” 

“Well, he has not any hole , at any rate,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” said his father, “he digs a large square hole to keep 
his stores in for the winter. He calls it his cellar.” 

Here Stanley laughed outright. The idea of calling man an 
animal, and the cellar of the house his hole, seemed to him ex- 
tremely queer. 

“And now,” said the colonel, “there are two other ways that 
I was going to describe to you, by which provision is made for 
the wants of animals in the winter. 

“ 2. The second is going to sleep. Some animals are endued 
with such constitutions that, when it becomes cold, they go to 
sleep and become torpid, and remain so, without requiring any 
food till it becomes warm again, when they wake up. This is 
the way with the bears, as I told you. 

“ 3. And the third way is migration. Some animals, particu- 
larly birds, have an instinct which compels them, when the cold 
weather comes on, to fly away to warm climates at the South, and 
to stay there where it is warm, and where they can find plenty of 
food, until the spring comes on. Then they fly back again. In 
taking these journeys they sometimes fly thousands of miles. 

“I have got something more to tell you about traveling in 
tropical countries, but I must put it off till to-morrow.” 


RIVERS. 


149 


The influence of the weather on the facilities for traveling. 


CHAPTER XV. 

RIVERS. 

The next evening, Colonel Markham resumed his conversation 
on the subject of traveling in tropical regions as follows : 

“ The influences of the weather in tropical regions,” said he, 
“ tend to make traveling more difficult, while in cold regions, and 
in the winter, they tend to make it more easy. Rains abound 
usually in warm countries, and they soften the ground, and fill 
the land with ponds, morasses, bogs, and flowing streams, that 
sometimes make the country almost impassable. 

“ In the winter of cold countries, the weather makes every thing 
firm and solid. The bogs and marshes are all hard, so that the 
heaviest teams can go and come over them in all directions. The 
ponds are frozen over too, and the rivers. It is true, the snow 
sometimes impedes the traveler in some degree in his motions, but 
then, on the other hand, it often assists him. It fills up the in- 
equalities of the ground, and makes smooth running for sleighs 
and sledges. Sleighs and sledges go much more easily over the 
snow than wheels do over the ground, and, besides, it is much 
easier to make a sledge than a cart. A man can hew out runners 
very readily with an axe, but it is a work of great labor to make 
a wheel. 

“ In tropical countries, instead of winter and summer, they have 
a rainy season and a dry season. In the rainy season, the streams 


150 


RIVERS. 


The colonel shows the children a new picture. 


become torrents, and the poor travelers have to get across them 
as they best can. I will show you a picture of a party of travel- 
ers in a tropical country wading across one of these swollen 
streams.” 

So saying, the colonel took down a book from the library, and 
showed the children this picture. 



FORDING THE RIVER. 


“You see,” said he, “it represents a party of men fording a 
torrent swelled by the rain.” 


RIVERS. 


151 


Description of the picture. Wading. The man tries to keep his gun dry. 

“Yes, sir,” said Stanley ; “ one of them is just wading out into 
the middle of the stream. He is holding his gun up high above 
his head. I declare I should like to be in his place.” 

“ Oh, Stanley !” exclaimed Dorie, “ you would not dare to be in 
his place.” 

“ Certainly I should,” said Stanley. “ It is excellent good fun 
wading across brooks.” 

“But this is a river,” said Dorie. 

“Or rivers either,” said Stanley, “provided the water is not 
deep enough to be over your head.” 

One of the men in the picture is, as Stanley said, advancing 
toward the middle of the stream. The water is about up to his 
waist. He is holding his gun above his head to keep it from 
getting wet. Other men are coming on behind him. Some are 
up to their ankles ; others are up to their knees. One of them 
has a long pole in his hands. He seems to be using this pole to 
sound the depth of the water with. 

The water in the middle of the river is flowing with great ve- 
locity and force. It sweeps past the men as they wade through 
it, and threatens to carry them away down the stream. If it be- 
comes much deeper, I think they will not be able to stand in it ; 
but I pi^sume that it does not become much deeper, for four of 
the men have already got safely across, and are now to be seen 
standing quietly on the rocks on this side. One of them has but 
just reached the shore. He is just coming up out of the water. 

All these men have their guns in their hands. One of them is 
standing on a rock, and is looking back to watch his comrades who 


152 


RIVERS. 


Buoyancy of the water. Way of counteracting it. Animals. 

are coming through the water. He holds his gun under his arm. 
This is the way that hunters and soldiers hold their guns in wet 
weather, in order to protect the lock from the falling rain. 

“It is very difficult,” said the colonel, in explaining this pic- 
ture, “to ford a rapid river when the water is deep, for the buoy- 
ancy of the water lifts you so much from the ground that the cur- 
rent has great power over you to float you away. Sometimes 
travelers attempt to counteract this tendency by carrying some 
heavy weight in their hands, to weigh them down.” 

“Is that a good plan?” asked Stanley. 

“Hot very,” said the colonel. “ That is, it does not do much 
good, for the load encumbers you very much, and then the bulk 
of it increases the surface for the water to press upon. When the 
water gets very deep, you usually have to let go the bottom and 
swim, and in that case you often get carried very far down the 
stream before you reach the shore. 

“Animals get floated off their feet more easily than men,” con- 
tinued the colonel, “ for their bodies are somewhat lighter, and then 
they are broader and longer, and expose more surface to the water; 
but then, if they get lifted off their feet, it is easier for them to 
swim. I will show you a picture of some mules swimming in 
this way across a wide river.” v 

So saying, the colonel took out from his portfolio the picture 
which you see on the opposite page. There are three mules to be 
seen in it swimming across a river. Only their heads are seen 
above the water. They seem to be looking about very earnestly, 
not knowing exactly which way to go. There are some men on 


MULES SWIMMING. 


RIVERS. 


153 


Picture of the mules swimming a river. 



154 


RIVERS. 


Getting up upon the hank. Crossing a river in the face of an enemy. 

the opposite shore watching them, and encouraging them to per- 
severe by calling them on. 

“ I don’t see how they are going to get up on the land when 
they get across,” said Stanley, “ the bank is so high.” 

“Oh, they will manage to get up,” said the colonel. “Mules 
will scramble up almost any where. Besides, the men can dig 
away a little, if it is necessary. Travelers don’t mind such diffi- 
culties as those very much. Indeed, they can surmount almost 
all natural difficulties in crossing rivers, provided they can go to 
work in peace and quietness, with nothing but the elements to 
contend with. The great trouble and danger is when there are 
Indians or other enemies on the bank to dispute the passage.” 

“ And what do they do in that case ?” asked Stanley. 

“ It is very difficult indeed to cross a river in the face of an en- 
emy,” replied the colonel, “ the water gives the enemy so great an 
advantage over you while you are passing through it. You see, 
the Indians, when they know you are coming, can hide in the 
bushes, or in some other ambuscade, and then shoot arrows at you 
while you are in the water, and thus can not defend yourselves.” 

“ That is not fair,” said Stanley. 

“They consider it fair,” said the colonel. “Indeed, savages 
consider almost any thing fair in carrying on their wars with 
white men ; and, to confess the honest truth, the white men are 
about as unscrupulous as the savages. They trick and deceive 
them in every possible way. They call the tricks stratagems ; 
so the Indians consider themselves justified in practicing all sorts 
of treachery in return. 


RIVERS. 


155 


Stratagems for deceiving the Indians. Remarkable case. 

“ In crossing rivers, however, while hostile Indians are near, it 
is necessary for travelers to resort to a great many stratagems that 
are very innocent. For instance, once I knew a party of travel- 
ers that arrived on the bank of a river, and, seeing Indians on the 
other side, were afraid to cross, not knowing whether the Indians 
were friendly or not ; so they set off to go down the river, as if they 
intended to cross at a certain ford a mile or two farther down. 
They set out in sight of the Indians, but after they had gone a 
short distance, and had got into a wood where they were conceal- 
ed, they took a circuit, and went several miles up the river, and 
there crossed in safety in a solitary place, while the Indians were 
all watching for them at the lower ford.” 

“ That was a good contrivance,” said Stanley. 

“Yes,” said the colonel, “and it was an innocent contrivance. 
Those same travelers afterward came to another river, which was 
so wide and deep that they had to build a raft to convey their 
goods over. They were emigrants, and they had a great deal of 
baggage. There was not time to take over all the baggage in one 
day, and at first they did not know what to do, for they did not 
like to divide the party, as that would weaken them too much, and 
they did not like to leave half their baggage on either side of the 
river exposed. 

“ So, when night came, and half their goods had been transport- 
ed across the river, the men all came back to the camp on this 
side, and then they set some men to fire across the river every few 
minutes all night. They thought that the Indians would hear the 
guns, and hear the balls whistling among the trees if they came 


156 


RIVERS, 


Picture of a company of emigrants building a bridge. 

to steal the goods, and so be frightened away. The next day they 
moved over the rest of the goods, and the women and children, 
and thus accomplished the whole transit in safety. 

“ But now,” said the colonel, “ I have one more picture to show 
you, and that is the last one in my portfolio.” 

So saying, he took out this picture, and laid it down on the 
table for the children to see. 



BUILDING A BRIDGE. 


RIVERS. 


157 


Description of the work. 


Bridges and rafts compared. 


“ What do you think it is ?” he asked. 

“ It is a company of emigrants building a raft,” said Stanley. 

“ It looks like that,” said the colonel, “ but what they are build- 
ing is really a bridge, and not a raft. It is a floating bridge, how- 
ever, that they are building, so that, after all, it might almost be 
considered as a raft — a sort of stationary raft.” 

“ The men are all standing in the water,” said Dorie. 

“ Some of them are,” said the colonel, “ and others are at work 
on the shore. Some of them are floating logs down the river from 
the place where they cut the trees on the banks above. In the 
foreground of the picture, four men are placing some logs together 
to make a frame. This will make one section of the bridge. One 
man is holding the frame with a rope, which he has tied to one of 
the corners of it. In the background we see the tents, with the peo- 
ple sitting at the doors of them. Beyond the tents I see some 
wagons.” 

“ I see them too,” said Dorie. 

“They are going to make a bridge so as to take these wagons 
across over it. When a company is small, a raft is sufficient to 
convey them over a river ; but if the company is large, it is better 
to build a bridge, if there are materials at hand sufficient to build 
it. When armies cross rivers that are too deep to be forded, they 
almost always make a bridge. 

“And now, children,” said the colonel, “this is all. I have 
shown you the last of the pictures I made for you, and have told 
you all about them. You have listened attentively, and the in- 


158 


CONCLUSION. 


Stanley conceives the design of forming an encampment. 

formation I have given you will be very useful to you if you re- 
member it, for it will help you to understand better the books of 
history and of travels that you read.” 


CHAPTER XYI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Stanley was so much interested in the accounts which his 
father had given him of emigrant expeditions and encampments at 
the West, that he conceived the design of going out with a party 
of boys some day, to encamp in the woods for play. His original 
plan was to build a hut and stay there all night, but this his 
father thought would not be prudent; so it was concluded that 
the expedition should return at sundown. 

He proposed the plan to a number of the boys at school, and 
they all entered into it very cordially. There were six boys in 
all who joined the party. Several of them had sisters who went 
too. Some were a little older and some a little younger than Do- 
rie. Bell did not go. She said she was afraid to go with so many 
boys. Dorie, however, was not afraid at all. Indeed, she said that 
the more boys there were, the safer it would be to go with them. 

The boys were to walk, but the girls were to ride on sleds. 
The boys were to draw them. Besides the sleds that the girls 
were to ride on, there were other sleds loaded with buffalo skins, 
tools, and provisions. Stanley took his bearskin with the rest of 
the baggage, intending to spread it on a log at the camp, to make 
a comfortable seat for the girls to sit upon. 


CONCLUSION. 


159 


The expedition sets out. 


The great northern trail. 


The expedition rendezvoused in the yard of Colonel Markham’s 
house, and set out about eleven o’clock in the forenoon. The party 
proceeded in a long train down through the garden, and thence 
through an open gate into a field. They traversed this field very 
successfully, and then entered a deep ravine, which they followed 
for some distance along the bank of a brook. The brook was 
frozen over in most places, so that the expedition could cross and 
recross at pleasure, wherever they found the smoothest place to 
go. There was deep snow on the ground, but it had become con- 
solidated by repeated thawings and freezings, so that it would bear 
up the boys perfectly as they walked upon it. They were very 
glad of this, for if the snow had been loose and soft, they would 
have needed snow-shoes, Stanley said, and they did not know how 
to make them. 

When they reached the head of the ravine, they ascended a 
steep slope which brought them out of it. The girls got olf the 
sleds here and walked up, as it was too steep for them to ride. 
After ascending this slope, they went on for some distance till they 
came to a pair of bars. They took down the bars, and the whole 
expedition went through. Here they entered a wood, and present- 
ly they came out into a great turnpike road which leads from New 
York to Albany. The boys called this the great northern trail. 

They followed this trail for about a quarter of a mile, and at 
length they turned off from it to the right into another wood,* and 
after traveling about a quarter of a mile farther, they came to the 
place which they had chosen for their camping-ground. 

* Sen Frontispiece. 


160 


CONCLUSION. 


The encampment. Unloading. The cookery. Conclusion. 

Here they stopped and unloaded their sleds, and made prepa- 
rations for their encampment. Some gathered sticks to make a 
fire. Others cut down hushes to build a hut with. The hut, 
however, consisted only of a heap of bushes piled along between 
two trees, to make a little shelter toward the north ; for, as the 
party were not intending to spend the night at their encampment, 
they wisely concluded that it was not necessary to make a roof 
over their hut. 

The fire soon blazed up very cheerfully, and the cooking pro- 
cesses were commenced under the care of the girls. These cook- 
ing operations were very simple, it is true ; they consisted chiefly 
of the roasting of apples, and the warming of cakes and pies. 
While the girls were thus making the supper ready, the boys 
made some excellent seats, by laying long piles of bushes in a con- 
venient place, and covering them with buffalo skins. The centre 
seat was covered with the bearskin. 

The party had a very merry time eating their supper, and about 
four o’clock they packed up their baggage again, and set out on 
their return home. On the way they pretended to have an alarm 
from the Indians, and the whole expedition ran down a long de- 
scent over the snow at their utmost speed, so as to frighten the 
girls on the sleds not a little. Indeed, the sled that Dorie was 
upon got upset, and Dorie was tumbled out upon the snow ; but 
she was not hurt, and so she said she did not care. 


THE END. 




V* 



































* 
















t 




































































- 














































































































































r*W. 


V “ 





























Each Number of Harper’s Story 
Books will contain 160 pages, in small 
quarto form, very beautifully illus- 
trated, and printed on superfine cal- 
endered paper. 

The Series may be obtained of Book- 
sellers, Periodical Agents, and Post- 
masters, or from the Publishers, at 
Three Dollars a year, or Twenty- 
five Cents a Number. 

The two Periodicals, Harper’s New 
Monthly Magazine and PIarper’s Sto- 
ry Books, will be supplied at Five 
Dollars a year, and will be published 
on the first day of each Month. 

The Postage upon Harper’s Story 
Books, which must be paid quarterly 
ia advance, is Two Cents. 






I 



